


Don't Imagine Me and You

by TheKodiakJew



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21524923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKodiakJew/pseuds/TheKodiakJew
Summary: My first Fleurmione fanfic. My first real HP fanfic to be honest. An alt take on GoF at the beginning and then a during war to hopefully post war story. Hermione and Fleur are so into each other, ever since the Tournament, but when they allow themselves to be together, they seem to only lose. Can they find themselves in a place where they can be together?
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger
Comments: 36
Kudos: 117





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well potential readers, this is my first ever Fleurmione fanfic and my first HP fanfic and I'm nervous excited to try it out. I have the bones of where I want this story to start and go, so hopefully enough people enjoy it to take this journey with me. Of course these characters aren't mine, I just think they deserve to be written better than they were and I love taking potential and doing gay stuff with it. I apologize for any errors in both grammar and plots. I havent read the books in years or seen the movies in ages but I'm using them to reference when I can. It's going to be somewhat of a slower start with some flashbacks and the like, but I hope y'all enjoy. Without further ado...

**1st of August, 1997**

Hermione had managed to avoid Fleur most of the time their stay at The Burrow overlapped with each other. This was what was best. No distractions from the monumental task before her and her friends. But the wedding itself was entirely unavoidable without raising too many questions. Questions she still didn’t have answers for… ‘Focus Hermione’, she told herself, ‘now is not the time’. She looked up at Ginny entered the room, buzzing not from excitement of the wedding itself (Ginny had never warmed up to Fleur) but from the idea of the party it brought. Losing herself in the bright ginger’s enthusiasm, Hermione nodded along and smiled while getting ready, opting to go with a simple red dress and minimal makeup. She certainly wasn’t trying to impress anyone tonight...

The wedding was exquisite. Finely decorated and catered with plenty of lively music, friends, and family… However, Hermione was lost the moment she finally saw the bride. Fleur was dressed in a simple white wedding dress but it seemed to glow as she moved in it. Hermione was unsure if this was a veela thing, a magical effect on the dress itself, or Hermione’s own filter of awe. 

As her eyes traveled over the bride, time seemed to stop as they locked eyes, deep blue piercing into Hermione’s own pools of brown. This feeling was an all too familiar one. One she had first felt almost three years ago. One she was still never able to quite recover from. One she didn’t know how much she longed for until it happened again. All at once, Hermione was instantly transported back to the first night she stared into those eyes…

**Hogwarts, Friday the 30th of October, 1994**

The arrival of the Beauxbatons carriage had been one for the ages, certainly not upstaged by the rather lackluster rising of the Durmstrang ship, at least in Hermione’s mind. A flying carriage with gargantuan horses to lead it is far more interesting than a simply enchanted ship. But there was one aspect of the arrival that stuck with Hermione in particular, though she wasn’t sure why. 

As the Beauxbatons students filed out, her eyes had traveled over the new faces almost haphazardly, barely registering them. Until a flash of deeper blue among the sea of pale blue uniforms caught her eye. She paused and tried to catch a glimpse again, but quickly the flash was lost in the crowd and Hermione was pulled away by said Durmstrang’s arrival. 

Without much more time to ponder the students, and focused more on comparing logistics of an enchanted carriage and an enchanted ship in her head, Hermione followed along while her two friends filled the Gryffindor table. She barely paid attention as the Beauxbatons students filling the Ravenclaw table, the blue flash already forgotten. She did snap to attention to see Ron acting like a fool to Durmstrang students, trying to garner the attention of that seeker Krum, who preferred to sit with Slytherins.

Hermione had resigned herself to not having much interaction with the foreign students just as Dumbledore started welcoming all the new students in a warm and comforting speech. Near the end of the speech, she heard a derisive laugh come from the Ravenclaw table and saw a Beauxbatons student clutching a muffler around her head, the source of the mocking. Hermione rolled her eyes and muttered, “No one’s making you stay!” bristling at the student as Dumbledore finished his welcome. 

The plates in front of them filled with food as usual. The house elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops; there was a greater variety of dishes in front of them than Hermione had ever seen, including several that were definitely foreign. “What’s that?” said Ron, pointing at a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak-and-kidney pudding. “Bouillabaisse,” said Hermione. “Bless you,” said Ron. “It’s French,” said Hermione, “I had it on holiday summer before last. It’s very nice.” “I’ll take your word for it,” said Ron, helping himself to black pudding. Hermione rolled her eyes and helped herself to the bouillabaisse. It had been ages since she’d had some and it looked delicious. There was some small talk with Hagrid before a soft, yet confident French accent was heard from behind them. 

“Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?” It was the girl from Beauxbatons who had laughed during Dumbledore’s speech. She had finally removed her muffler. A long sheet of silvery-blonde hair fell almost to her waist. She had large, deep blue eyes, and very white, even teeth. Hermione was immediately transfixed to her eyes, all of time seeming to stop around her. This girl had clearly affected her, though not in the painfully obvious way Ron was bumbling next to her. She could not pay attention to that though. Her sharp brown eyes were entirely lost in the deep blue pools staring at Harry and Ron. Luckily, the woman did not seem to notice Hermione’s attention as she turned and walked away with the food back to the Ravenclaw table.

Harry started to laugh. The sound seemed to jog both Hermione and Ron back to their senses. “She’s a veela!” Ron said hoarsely. “Of course she isn’t!” said Hermione responded quickly, urgently trying to gather her thoughts with neither of her friends the wiser of her brief lapse. ‘But what was she then?’ Hermione couldn’t help but think to herself. She had never reacted to anyone like that before. 

As the girl crossed the Hall, many boys’ heads turned, and some of them seemed to have become temporarily speechless, just like Ron but none of the other girls reacted the way Hermione had. “I’m telling you, that’s not a normal girl!” said Ron, leaning sideways so he could keep a clear view of her. “They don’t make them like that at Hogwarts!” Hermione could only roll her eyes visibly, and shove Ron’s shoulder. She glanced over and saw Harry looking at Cho at the Ravenclaw table. It appeared both of her companions would be transfixed with that table tonight. That was just fine with her.Resisting the urge to spend her own supper trying to catch glimpses of the French beauty that had left her in such a state, Hermione excused herself from the table and decided to take a trip to her favorite place in Hogwarts. 

Once she had greeted Madame Prince, and asked for guidance, Hermione found herself pulling out an old tome of Eastern European magical beings and creatures. Finding a quiet corner in the deserted library was no issue, literally everyone else in the castle was at the welcoming feast. Curling up in an overstuffed armchair, one of her favorites in the library, she opened the book and began flipping through the pages. After a few moments she found what she was looking for and began to read. The image of the French girl swirled around her head as she quickly lost herself to the history and lore of the Veela....

  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We saw how Hermione first noticed Fleur, now it's time for Fleur to notice Hermione

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow a second chapter the same day as the first? This is definitely not setting a standard that I will fail to live up to... I just have the first couple chapters already mapped out and am excited to get through them and since the first two are shorter, I wanted to put them both out quickly to give you that sweet sweet content. I hope y'all are enjoying it so far!

**1st of August, 1997**

Fleur had spent most of her time at The Burrow just trying to be helpful and bond with her soon to be family, but soon it became clear that things were easier if she just stayed out of the way. Molly and Ginny did not try hard to hide their dislike of her, and Hermione made it clear since she arrived that she was going to be avoiding Fleur. 

Fleur found safety from this environment in the arms of her soon to be husband. His warm embrace had always made it seem like nothing could get through him to hurt her. He never sparked a fiery passion within her, but his devotion and love were something Fleur had desperately needed the past few years and she wanted nothing more than to contribute to his happiness. He was her rock during this terrible war.

Their wedding was a much needed event. There was so much tension all over the country and The Burrow seemed to be a focal point. The party was something that everyone longed for, and the idea that love was still possible in these dark times. Fleur happily went along with it, despite secretly wishing she could have convinced Bill to spend more time in France beforehand. He was a sweet man but seemed to not be very interested in her background at all…Pushing such thoughts from her head as she dressed for the ceremony, she chatted along with her mother and sister in rapid French, giving them the details of all the other guests of importance. It was a long list. Their wedding would certainly be considered the event of the century, if the century had been less eventful.

Finally, the ceremony was over and Bill and Fleur had debuted as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. She hated the last name, but that was such a trivial thing. She used to care more about trivial things, but she has seen too much to get hung up on them now. Her eyes traveled the room as she politely smiled and nodded with any guest she made eye contact with. She was used to all eyes being on her due to her Veela nature, but it was nicer when it was intended to be that way. Her eyes met a dark brown, all too familiar pair and her breath hitched for a moment. Hermoine.

They had managed to avoid each other at The Burrow but there was no avoiding her gaze now. Time seemed to stop as they locked eyes, sharp brown eyes piercing into Fleur’s own pools of blue. This feeling was an all too familiar one. One she had first felt almost three years ago. One she was still never able to quite recover from. One she didn’t know how much she longed for until it happened again. All at once, Fleur was instantly transported back to the first night she stared into those eyes…

**Hogwarts, November, 1994**

‘Dragons’ Fleur thought to herself as Madame Maxine left her room. This tournament had already been full of surprises, from the calling of her own name as champion to the revelation that Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived himself, would be joining them as an unheard of before fourth champion. After the all too invasive weighing of the wands with that terrible Rita Skeeter, Fleur had decided to try to back away from the pageantry of the Tournament and instead focus on her studies. If she was to win, she would have to use every ounce of magic knowledge she had inside her to do so. There were so many other Beauxbatons students she felt were more qualified, she already felt in over her head. Maybe the goblet had fallen under the same Veela thrall that just about every male in the school had and chosen her regardless of her worthiness. 

Pushing those thoughts from her head, she felt her determination return once more. That caretaker, Hagrid, had told her Headmistress what the first challenge would involve and she would not let this opportunity go to waste. First thing after classes tomorrow, she was hitting the Hogwarts library hard and she would not leave until she felt fully prepared. 

**The Next Day**

Finishing up her last class, Fleur lingered outside the Great Hall. She had hardly eaten that day and she knew she would not get the chance to dine with the rest of the students. She shook her head, ‘Non’ she thought to herself. ‘Now is not the time to lose motivation.’ She left the corridor and made her way towards the library. It was not hard to find. Plenty of students tripped over themselves to offer to be the one to guide her, but Fleur was already tired from classes, and cranky from not eating, and could not spare even a polite smile for any of them. 

A few followed her into the library but were quickly shunned out by Madame Prince when it was clear they only had one thing on their minds. Fleur gave the librarian a grateful smile and in a hushed tone asked. “Would you mind telling me where ze books on dragons are kept?” Madame Prince gave her a curious look and then showed her where to find them before sending her on her way.

Fleur walked throughout the rows and rows of books, thousands more than the carriage and probably even Beauxbatons itself had. She knew she made the right decision choosing to study here. As she approached the area Madame Prince told her about, she could hear hushed voices. British. Almost certainly Hogwarts students. She turned the corner and saw Harry Potter, the fourth champion, along with a girl around his age she did not think she had seen before, though it was hard to tell with the brown hair falling in her face. Harry noticed her first and a smile of questioning recognition came across his face. “Fleur?”

The girl looked up and Fleur saw her full features for the first time. She was stunning. Not ethereally stunning like Fleur knew she was, but just undeniably beautiful. Her sharp brown eyes met Fleur’s and immediately Fleur could sense the incredible intellect behind them, as well as a fierce passion just bubbling below the surface. For the first time in her life, the part-Veela was rendered speechless by the thrall of another.

Harry’s voice was barely breaking through the haze this girl had left Fleur in but eventually she could begin to hear his words. “-akes sense that you would be looking for books, I’m sure Madame Maxine has told you all about the first task. I know we shouldn’t trade notes, but at least let me give you a couple of the books we’ve carelessly hoarded.” Harry seemed oblivious to the fact both Fleur and Hermione were locked in some kind of stare off until Fleur did not respond to him. “Fleur?” She heard his voice try to penetrate the haze. “Fleur? Y’alright?” Fleur shook her head to try to come to her senses as another “Fleur!” came through, this one with a slightly deeper and more familiar voice. 

**1st of August, 1997**

“Fleur!” Bill’s voice snapped Fleur back to the present as he was looking at her expectantly. A slight flush came to Fleur’s pale cheeks. Obviously something was supposed to happen. She was supposed to do something. Her eyes darted around, losing Hermione as she tried to quickly take in enough context clues to respond. She saw Bill holding his arm out, a band ready to play, and a circle of people around the dance floor expecting them. The first dance. Of course. She smiled and took Bill’s arm, effortlessly making their way to the dance floor and beginning the much practiced first dance. 

  
Fleur scolded herself the entire time. ‘This is what happens when  _ she _ is around’, Fleur thought to herself. Every time she allowed herself even a morsel of indulgence, she was punished for it. She was lucky the repercussions were much gentler this time...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow you made it through another thousand of my words, thank you so much! Please leave a review to give me motivation to write more thousands of words!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Yule Ball and the second task, and the first time Hermione distracts Fleur...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow a third chapter just a day after the first two? I'm really setting this impossibly high standard! I do expect the chapters to drop off a bit as I get past my beginning outline, but I'm super pumped to keep at this pace while I have the inspiration. This chapter is significantly longer than the previous ones, the previous ones were kind of intros. I'm hoping to keep chapter length more like this moving forward but we'll see. I hope you enjoy, I'm taking some liberties with the timeline because I barely remember a lot of the books and going to them to reference only does so much. Thank you again for taking this journey with me, and let me know how you like it!

**Yule Ball, December 25th, 1994**

The past few months had been a whirlwind for the entire school, not just Hermione. As she danced with Viktor at the ball, she found her gaze darting back and forth between the obviously surly Ron, and the ethereally beautiful Fleur on the arm of a Ravenclaw boy she did not know. She cared not for how Ron was feeling, he was the one who had been acting like an ass all year and she was not about to continue holding his hand for it. 

But Fleur… Fleur on the other hand. She cared much more than she’d ever admit for how Fleur may be feeling. Ever since that first night, when the foreign students arrived, Hermione had been unable to get those blue eyes out of her head. To be quite honest, it wasn’t just the eyes either. Fleur had plagued many of her thoughts and dreams. 

They had barely spoken, but Hermione wanted to learn everything she could about the witch. She had pored over every book in the library mentioning Veelas after Harry had confirmed Fleur’s heritage and found herself with more questions than answers. Then, she saw how Fleur handled the dragon during the first task. 

Bewitched sleep was an advanced level Charm and the way Fleur cast with ease was highly impressive. In Hermione’s opinion, Fleur was the clear winner of the first task and it was ludicrous and probably sexist that she had the lowest marks. The boys all had foolhardy plans that seemed to put them in more jeopardy than needed. Fleur got her egg with only a singed skirt to show for it. Besides, Hermione knew none of the books they had read mentioned dragons snoring fire. Fleur was stunning and the judges just didn’t understand. 

Hermione was entirely caught up in her own thoughts when she noticed the dancing was done and Viktor was leading them to the table to eat. Dinner was quiet, mostly spent with Hermione, Harry, and Viktor making small talk with each other absentmindedly. Harry’s focus was on Cho across the table, Hermione’s was on Fleurs on the other side of Viktor, and Viktor kept mistaking glances towards the French witch as interest in himself. 

It was embarrassing, watching the Ravenclaw boy and how he acted around Fleur. Hermione would’ve slapped more sense into him ages ago if she was Fleur, but she supposed the scandal would be too much for a champion to bring on their school. Instead Fleur was forced to put up with his jabbering. At least when they were dragged onto the dance floor again it seemed to be less of a problem. 

The loud crashing music of the Weird Sisters led to a huge pile of students all dancing together. Hermione was trying to enjoy herself with Viktor, despite feeling Ron’s eyes on her and her own desire to stare at the Beauxbatons champion. As the night winded down, Hermoine went to check in on her friends, which of course led to a huge fight with Ron. He spoiled everything. He always did. She was having a nice time. A fun time. It might have been more fun with a partner she liked a bit more, but Viktor was good enough company and anything was better than the nonsense she saw Fleur put up with. 

Fleur again. She could not keep her mind from Fleur for too long. She had no idea why. Her feet carried her outside, away from the ball and the loud noises. Desperate for just a little bit of quiet, peacefulness, anything away from Ron or Viktor or even Harry. She made her way down towards the lake, between where the Beauxbatons carriage and Durmstrang ship were and found a clean enough looking log for her to risk her dress sitting on. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and tried to let her mind drift away. 

Almost as soon as she managed to clear her mind, she saw blue eyes piercing from the darkness and Fleur Delacour crashed into her thoughts. She was older, more experienced with magic, but there was something about the way she cast that made it seem so natural to her. A feeling Hermoine desperately wanted. Maybe it was her wand, Harry had mentioned it had her grandmother’s hair in it. Maybe that gave her some kind of connection to the magic she cast.

“Maybe she’s just older, smarter, and prettier than me and I’m just jealous.” Hermione said out loud, to nobody. And yet, a voice from the darkness responded. “Allo? ‘Ermione?” Hermoine froze at the sound of the familiar French lilt. Sure enough, Fleur emerged, her silver dress glittering in the moonlight and her blue eyes glinting through the darkness to find Hermione’s. ‘Had she heard?’ Hermione could not help but think to herself.

**The Black Lake, December 25th, 1994**

Fleur had spent most of the night trying to imagine being anywhere but at the ball. It was too late to just ditch him, but there was only so much of his blind adoration that she could put up with. There had been several times during the night where Fleur had to stop herself from lighting his robes on fire, just to see if he would notice. She allowed him to escort her outside, but was firm about him walking her to the carriage. She did not want to spend any further time with him than she had to that night.

She was making her way down the well lit path towards the carriage when movement by the lake caught her eye. Grateful for her slightly superior night vision, she noticed a young woman in a pink dress taking a seat on a log. Squinting a little, she recognized the form. It was that girl, Hermione. Harry’s friend and Viktor’s date. The girl who had enthralled her at first sight. The girl who was helping her competition win this tournament. Without realizing it at first, she turned and started walking towards her.

After that night in the library, Fleur had seen Hermione several times, but was always too busy to try to stop and make conversation. Hermoine probably thought she was dim, the way Fleur froze up, mumbled a thank you at Harry for the books, and ran off to research dragons. And then there was the way she embarrassed herself during the task. Of course sleeping dragons still breathe fire, she should have been prepared for that. She did not expect to take the last position as she had, but she understood why the judges had been so harsh. 

She heard the young witch talking to herself, though the words weren’t quite discernible. She felt she should make her presence known at this point. “Allo? ‘Ermione?” She saw Hermione jump a bit and stare up at her. Their eyes met and Fleur struggled to continue walking forward to take a seat next to Hermione. Her voice was weaker and softer. “Is it okay to sit ‘ere?”

**Hogwarts, January 1994**

The night of the Yule Ball was a special one for Fleur and Hermione both. They sat on the log together and talked for hours. Hermione probed Fleur for details on the spellcasting used to tame the dragon, and Fleur was obsessed with the idea of growing up as a Muggle. That first night together was a tame one. They barely touched, only talked, the only physical contact coming when Fleur kissed Hermione’s cheeks goodbye. The sun was beginning to rise at that point, and it was bright enough out for both girls to see the blushes rise on their cheeks when Fleur’s lips made contact. Hastily muttered goodbyes were followed by promises to meet up again soon and the first night of many spent together ended. 

The next month almost flew by, with various rendezvous happening all over the grounds and castle. One day they’d be studying together in the library, the next night they would be walking along the shores of the Black Lake. Their meetings were always private, but neither would openly admit they didn’t want to be seen or disturbed. A secluded corner of the library, a particularly comfortable log hidden on the side of the boat house, even a short trip into the closer parts of the Forbidden Forest. Anywhere they could find time alone. Hermione told herself it was to prevent rumors spreading about her loyalty. Fleur told herself it was to prevent a lecture from Madame Maxine about her lack of focus on the second task. Both girls unwilling to admit they just wanted each other’s undivided attention, without boys constantly chasing down Fleur, or fellow students constantly throwing insults at Hermione. There was no real peace at Hogwarts for either of them, unless they were alone together. 

Conversation came easily between them. Hermione was a sponge for knowledge and the older, more experienced French witch with the interesting heritage had more than enough knowledge to keep her sated. Fleur told her of the splendor of Beauxbatons, a harsh contrast to the awesome castle that Hogwarts was. She told her of her family, of the Veela tribe she belonged to, and what of their traditions she could. She shared with her the things that kept her up at night, the thoughts of inadequacy, of insincerity. How it was impossible for Fleur to know whether someone truly cared about her, whether she was truly worthy of any of the praise she was given. 

Hermione spoke to Fleur of the history of her time at Hogwarts, the adventures she’d had with The Boy Who Lived. She told her about her parents, how they tried to support her but they could not possibly ever understand even a fraction of her world. She told her of her mission to help house elves, really all magical creatures, to have the rights they deserved. She shared with her the things that kept her up at night, the feelings of exclusion, of being pushed aside. How it was impossible for Hermione to not feel othered as a muggle born, or how people would never take her any more seriously than “that witch who helped Harry Potter”. 

Fleur was patient and kind with Hermione, using her experience to help Hermione with some of her views about magical creatures. She also empathized with her. Fleur herself had always felt like an outcast because of her blood, and was treated differently because of it. Her words comforted Hermione in ways no one else’s ever had. 

Hermione was earnest and sincere with Fleur, using her own sharp intellect to show Fleur how advanced she really was with her magic. How she was a force to be reckoned with, Veela blood or not. How relationships could form without the thrall of the Veela and with open communication and honesty. Fleur felt more comfort from her words than anyone else’s, feeling the truth behind them. 

They helped each other in ways no one else could, in ways that they each desperately needed. The more time spent together, the closer the girls came both emotionally and physically. 

Their first kiss didn’t happen until the beginning of February. In the weeks leading up to it, there had been more physical contact. The winters were cold, and often the girls would find themselves huddled closer together for heat. At least, that’s what they told themselves.

It started innocently enough. A brush of their hands as they’d walk together, almost daring the other to grasp it. Fleur’s fingers mindlessly trying to tame strands of Hermione’s hair while they sat together and studied in the library. Knees constantly touching as they sat together on the log near the boat house, faces so close they could feel each other’s breath faintly on their skin. 

**Hogwarts, February, 1994**

Fleur and Hermoine were walking along the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, back towards the carriage and the castle after another night spent gazing at the stars and talking. They felt comfortable talking about anything, except the tournament itself. Reluctant to sully their time together with thoughts of opposing sides, or life threatening tasks, or the fact that Fleur had been entirely shirking her studies of the egg in order to spend time with Hermione, the topic just never came up. 

Fleur was walking, her fingertips lightly brushing against Hermione’s as they usually did. They were uncharacteristically quiet, choosing to just enjoy the odd sounds of the Forest in the winter. As they reached the end of the Forest, and the carriage came into sight, Fleur’s mind could not help but jump to the golden egg sitting on her bed, nearly untouched since the Yule Ball. 

What was she supposed to do? When she opened it, all she heard was screeching and she didn’t have the foggiest clue on how to solve the mystery. Fleur could feel the anxiety rising in her chest as she slowed her pace. She was supposed to be a champion but trying to focus on the tournament made her feel like she was more unworthy than ever. 

Hermione noticed her chance in pace and slowed herself to turn and look at Fleur. She noticed the worried look on Fleur’s face, the furrowed brow that framed her enchanting eyes and a pang of concern hit Hermione. “Fleur? Are you okay?” 

Fleur nodded silently but Hermione remained unconvinced. She took both of Fleur’s hands in hers and pulled her a bit further into the trees, so they were more hidden from prying eyes. Fleur barely noticed this through her anxiety but Hermione could not help but feel the warmth in holding Fleur’s hands properly. “Fleur talk to me, this isn’t like you…”

That seemed to snap Fleur out of it as she retorted back sharply. “So what am I supposed to be like ‘Ermione? Smart, successful, a perfect champion of her perfect school?” Fleur’s voice began to shake and Hermione could see tears filling her eyes. 

“Fleur you’re supposed to be whoever you want to be. Nobody else’s expectations of you should define that.” Hermione’s thumbs gently began to rub Fleur’s hands in a soothing manner. Fleur gave her a soft smile but tears had already started to fall. 

“Oh, I wish zat were true, ‘Ermione, but this tournament has the exact goal of defining me by its expectations. I am lost, so lost. I feel like my head is underwater and I’m just struggling to breath when I try to think of the task.” Fleur’s tears were falling freely now, a sight that broke Hermione’s heart. 

One of Hermione’s hands moved up to brush the tears away. “I can’t help you with the task, mon amie, Harry has to be my priority. But you...you are honestly one of the brightest witches I’ve ever known, if not the brightest.” Her hand begins to caress Fleur’s cheek, their eyes meeting in that famous way they do. Fleur’s breath hitched as Hermione continued. “The goblet chose you because it knew you could handle it. That you would be able to take anything the tournament threw at you, and after the time we’ve spent together this past month, I have to agree with it.”

Her words were comforting but Fleur was finding it harder and harder to focus as she found herself getting lost deeper and deeper into Hermione’s eyes, subconsciously leaning down closer to her. 

Hermione continued. “I mean Harry is nowhere near close to sorting his egg out, Diggory even told him to take a bloody bath with it as some kind of joke. You’re so much more capable than any of the stupid men that goblet-“ Her sentence was cut short as Fleur’s lips descended down onto hers. 

Neither of them knew how badly they wanted to kiss until Fleur took the leap. That first kiss was the definition of intoxicating. The way Fleur’s lips commanded Hermione’s own. The way Hermione comfortably sank into the French witches arms. The way they stayed like that for another hour as the sun rose, unwilling to part for more than a few seconds as they kissed. 

When they finally came up for air, both witches could not keep from grinning. Hermione went to speak first “Well, that was-“ but Fleur put a finger to her lips. “Not tonight, ‘Ermione. Let us just enjoy that. Library later?” Hermione couldn’t help but just grin and nod. “Library later” and both witches set off to their respective sleeping quarters. 

**The Black Lake, 24th of February, 1994**

Fleur had never felt so under prepared for something in her life. The last month, which should have been the ultimate cramming time, was instead spent stealing kisses with Hermione in various hidden alcoves of the castle and grounds. Fleur dared not bring her back to the carriage for she knew Madame Maxine would kick her right back out again for distracting her champion. Not that Fleur could blame her, she had been entirely distracted. As Fleur’s eyes searched the arena, she was disappointed to see Hermione not in the stands. Not that she expected Hermione to come for her, but she at least thought she would support Harry. 

Fleur shook her head as the second task was being explained. She had to stop letting that witch distract her. She nodded along, playing as close attention as she could. It appeared at least Cedric and Harry had already known about this task...maybe it had something to do with the bath, but all Fleur could think about was her analogy of her anxiety drowning her. ‘Focus Fleur’ she told herself. ‘Just a simple bubble head charm, that’s all you need.”

That was not all she needed. Her task started off fine, but her mind kept wandering back to Hermione and where she had been. This proved to be a vital mistake as quickly Fleur found herself surrounded by Grindylows. Grindylows, one of the lowest level magical creatures they are taught to go up against, and a horde of them took down the French witch with ease. She had failed her task.

As she awaited on the shorelines, first Cedric holding a girl she vaguely recognized from the Yule Ball surfaced. Then Krum surfaced, holding an all too familiar Hermione in his arms. Jealousy flamed within her for a brief moment but it was superseded by her anguish at failing to save her own hostage. After waiting a bit more, finally Harry broke the surface and Fleur saw a familiar flash of silver white hair. “Gabrielle!” She immediately ran up to them and began speaking in rapid French, as the young girl began coughing up water. Fleur looked up at Harry and smiled. “You saved ‘er even though she was not your ‘ostage.” She bent down and gave Harry a kiss on the cheek. This action was noticed by Hermione who turned a shade of red that would’ve given away her jealousy, but Fleur was focused on her sister at the moment. 

Fleur had let her focus drop once before, and her sisters well being was put at risk because of it. She could not allow this to happen again. She was firmly in last place in the tournament and the third task was only going to be more difficult. She would have to dedicate every moment of free time to it. She stole a glance back at Hermione, who’s look softened when Fleur met her eyes but Fleur shook her head and looked away again, puzzling Hermione. Fleur wrapped the towel around her sister and went with her to Madame Pomfrey for the check up…

**1st of August, 1997**

Hermione watched the couple take their first dance, trying to simultaneously keep her eyes on Fleur while avoiding Fleur’s gaze herself. She noticed Fleur desperately trying to look around the reception, searching for Hermione for one more look. She noticed Bill’s brow furrow, clearly distressed by the fact his new wife was not focused on him. She felt a pang of guilt. ‘This is what happens when I am around’, Hermione thought to herself. Every time they allowed themselves even a morsel of indulgence, they were punished for it. They were lucky the repercussions were much gentler this time...

  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After failing the second task, Fleur does her best to resist the smartest witch she knows, Hermione attempts to do the same...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man I just can't stop...four chapters in two days and I'm about to get started on the fifth. Should I hold back on uploading for when I have writer block weeks? Absolutely. Am I going to? Decidedly not. I need to get it out to the people for the feedback I thrive off of! This chapter is going to include a song I dont have rights to, so theres that. It will also be the second hint at the work that gave me the inspiration for the beginning of this story and the title. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and as always, please leave me any feedback to keep me flourishing!

**Hogwarts, April, 1994**

Fleur tried. She really, truly did. She tried to keep the clever, beautiful witch from her mind. She tried to push away thoughts of the intoxicating nature of the kisses they had shared. She tried to keep herself from getting lost in the memory of those sharp brown eyes. It was damn near impossible, but she tried. She kept to herself mostly, beyond classes, choosing to use the sparser resources aboard the carriage to help prepare herself for the final task. 

But eventually, near mid April, Fleur had exhausted all the resources and felt she had no choice but to return to the Hogwarts library. She HAD to continue her studies. It had absolutely nothing to do with how much she missed the presence of Hermione, the gentle feel of her fingertips, the sweet smell of her hair, the soft taste of her lips… No, this had to do with studying, not that she would likely find the witch there…

**Hogwarts’ Library, April, 1994**

Hermione let out a soft moan as Fleur pushed her back up against the bookcase in the most secluded part of the library. She buried her fingers in the silver white hair, urging her closer as she felt Fleur’s lips cascade down her neck. Biting back another moan against her lower lip, Hermione felt Fleur’s tongue against the base of her neck. Her breath hitched as Fleur’s hands found themselves sliding up the front of Hermione’s shirt. There was an electricity whenever Fleur’s fingertips touched her skin, and this more vulnerable skin was particularly reactive.  _ SLAM _

Hearing a book drop too close to them for comfort, they leapt apart from each other. Heavy breathing was soon replaced by giggles as they ran off to find more private places to play. They were playing a very dangerous game as it is, it was a miracle no one had caught on to them yet. Harry was questioning where Hermione went off to more and more, she knew she should be helping him prepare for the third task, but the allure of Fleur was too much to resist, and the more she tried, the weaker she was…

**Beauxbatons’ Carriage, May, 1994**

Kissing, touching, heavy petting. Fleur and Hermione were infatuated with each other. Unfortunately, their circumstances never allowed them to take their courtship much further than frantic clawing at each other’s clothing. There was always the possibility they could be caught. Hermione couldn’t bear to think of the rumors that would spread from that vile Rita Skeeter, and Fleur couldn’t even imagine the lecture and subsequent punishment her headmistress would bestow upon learning she was shirking her duties to get handsy with the best friend of her competitor.

But it wasn’t enough. They could not get enough of each other and the frustration was causing them to become more and more reckless. Eventually, one of them had to crack and admit they had to make arrangements to take things further or they would be caught. Around the same time their desire was reaching unbearable, a miracle happened. Madame Maxine visited Fleur one day. 

“Mlle Delacour?” Fleur looked up as the large woman called to her. “Oui, Headmistress?” Madame Maxine waited for the other girls to leave their presence before sitting on one of the beds near Fleur’s. “I have noticed you have been looking a bit tired lately, and it has clearly had an effect on your focus. Is it too much to stay in the same rooms as the other girls? If they are keeping you up at night…” 

“Mais non, Madame, they are not causing trouble. I have just been...restless, of late. As the task comes closer, I feel more and more pressure.” A lie, but an easy one. Truth be told, Fleur had barely thought about the third task or the tournament. Her mind was occupied by something else, someone else. 

Madame Maxine nodded and continued. “If you find it easier for you, I can arrange a private room for you to sleep and study. Less distractions from the other girls, purposeful or not.” Fleur’s eyes widened at the idea of her own room. Her own private space. A private space she would be able to share with just one other person. “Perhaps that might be best, to help me focus.” 

Madame Maxine nodded and within a few hours a separate room had been set up for Fleur. Fleur was ecstatic and issued many thanks to her headmistress before darting out of the carriage to find the one person she had to share the good news with.

**Hogwarts’ Library, Later that day**

Hermione was spending some rare time with Harry and Ron, helping Ron with upcoming exams and answering questions Harry had while preparing for his third task. She was trying her best to focus on her friends, but she could not help but let her mind wander. Glancing towards the quieter parts of the library, she had flashes of Fleur. The memories ranged from steamy make out sessions against the bookcases, to comfortable cuddling while Fleur played with her hair, to energetic discussions of advanced magics. 

She was just so comfortable with the French witch. Hermione had never had a connection like that with anyone. She had never considered she may be queer, she was always too busy with her nose in her books to think about those things. But Fleur pulled her nose out of the books and forced her to look at the magic of the world through a practical lens, something Hermione desperately needed. Something that would prove to bring Hermione’s spellcasting to a whole new level. 

Hermione was still lost in her thoughts when she felt Ron shake her arm. “Hey, ‘Mione, y’alright?” She shook her head a bit pulling herself back and nodded. “Yes, right, sorry, what was the question?” Ron gave her a weird look and then gestured over towards another part of the library. “Why does Fleur keep looking at you?” Hermione started a bit and looked over to where he indicated. Sure enough, there was the Beauxbatons champion, her blue eyes flashing with an excitement Hermione had not seen before. Her mind searched for any kind of excuse for this behavior, it was so out of their norm. “Um, I’m not sure. I should go see.” Ignoring the questioning looks from Ron and Harry, she got up and walked over to Fleur, making sure they were out of anyone’s earshot.

Fleur could hardly contain her excitement and it was obvious to Hermione. The French witch spoke quickly, her accent thicker than usual in her glee. “‘Ermione, ze most amazing zing ‘as ‘appened. Ze ‘eadmistress haz given me my own chambers. Privacy from ze rest of ze carriage. Complete wiz silencing charms and protected locks…” Hermione’s eyes grew wider at the possibilities that were flooding her mind. A place for them, a private place, where no one would interrupt. Fleur continued. “If you can sneak out to ze carriage, if zere is a way we can sneak you into zat room...we can…” Fleur let the sentence trail off and Hermione’s mind went even wilder.

Hermione looked back at Harry and Ron, both staring at the two girls, and tried to hide the rising blush. Harry. Harry had a way to sneak around the castle. Harry had something he could lend her to get into that room. She had to convince him to give her the cloak for the night. But how… She had no idea how she would explain this interaction with Fleur to begin with. But she would. She had to… This opportunity was too much to pass up. 

Hermione looked back up at Fleur and nodded. “Yes. I can do that. I have a plan. Meet me on our log near the lake tonight after dinner?” Fleur nodded and leaned in to give Hermione two chaste kisses, one on each cheek, before whispering softly. “I cannot wait to see you zere, my ‘Ermione” With that, Fleur departed as a deeper blush flooded across Hermione’s already flushed cheeks. 

Taking a deep breath she returned to Harry and Ron. They had left their work entirely and were now looking up at her expectantly. ‘Ok, Hermione. You can do this. You can come up with a believable lie. You’re the brightest witch in your year.’ Hermione told herself.

“So??” Ron and Harry both said eagerly at the same time. ‘Shit’ Hermione said to herself before answering. “That was...She wanted...well Madame Maxine...Hagrid! She knew that I was friends with Hagrid and she wanted my help in trying to get together Hagrid and her headmistress. To date. She wanted to play matchmaker. Yes. That makes sense. We are going to try to get them together tonight. But I need your help Harry.” Harry guffawed a bit, a little incredulous that Hermione would be so invested in Hagrid’s love life. “Me, ‘Mione? What on earth can I do?” Hermione swallowed, it was now or never. 

“Your cloak. I need it. To help me...sneak out. Fleur has this plan. A set up. For a date. For Hagrid and Madame Maxine. The two people we are trying to set up. It’s a bit complicated, but I just need to borrow the cloak for the night so help me sneak around the grounds. I won’t tell Fleur about it if you don’t want me to…” A lie, Fleur would have to know how she was sneaking in. 

Harry shook his head and shrugged a bit. “Sure, ‘Mione. I mean, I owe you my life several times over, I can let you borrow my cloak one night. You can tell Fleur about it, if she swears to secrecy. She seems nice enough, and I don’t want her to think I have any unfair edges she doesn’t know about...though I’m not sure I could even use the cloak in the tournament… I should ask someone about that.” 

Hermione laughed a bit in relief and at the fact that Harry had seemingly forgotten he could only carry his wand into the tournament. Harry shrugged again and looked up at Hermione. “I can leave the cloak somewhere for you, or just bring it to you in the common room.” Hermione nodded and attempted to go back to studying. As if she could think of anything but what tonight might bring for her…

**1st of August, 1997**

Fleur had been distracted all night. After the first dance, came dinner, and then the cutting of the cake. The entire time she ping ponged back and forth between trying to seek out Hermione and scolding herself for doing so, effectively ignoring her new husband in the process. Bill was a sweet man, which made it hurt so much more when he pointed her lack of attention out to her.

“Fleur…” his gruff voice started. “Are you feeling okay? You seem a little off tonight.” Another inner scolding and Fleur plastered a smile on her face as she looked over at her supposed beloved. “Of course, mon amie. It is just a little overwhelming, that is all. How about a dance?”

Bill nodded eagerly, satisfied by his new wife’s response. Fleur could tell Bill thought she was out of his league and would do anything he thought would appease her. Normally, she thought it was sweet. Tonight, she felt as though it was pacifying in a way she did not enjoy. That was no matter though, it was time to dance. 

Fleur was finally starting to lose herself in the music and dancing, relaxing herself a bit to try to just enjoy the good times with her friends. Then suddenly, a familiar sounding song came on. A disco electronic song that felt very out of place. A muggle song. 

_ My head is in a spin, my feet don’t touch the ground _

_ Because you’re near to me my head goes round and round _

_ My knees are shaking baby, my heart it beats like a drum _

The wizards look confused at first but the beat was impossible not to dance to...unless you were Fleur or Hermione, both of whom froze when the song started. Bill grabbed Fleur’s hand and pulled her closer to dance. “What’s wrong? You don’t like muggle music?” Fleur shook her head incredulously. “I have not heard much of it, where did you find this song?” Bill shrugged a bit. “Ron showed it to me, I think Hermione was playing one time and Ron got a kick out of it.” 

Fleur’s brow furrowed as the music and dancing continued. Her eyes searched the room and found Hermione. Ron was clearly inviting her to dance, but the look in Hermione’s eyes said she was not having it. Fleur was unsure if it was the song or the choice in dance partner, but as she and Hermione locked eyes again, her mind raced back to the first time she had ever heard of Kelly Marie.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time Hermione and Fleur are intimate...followed by the tragedy of the third task

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, banged out another chapter this afternoon. I guess I'm just unstoppable. The words keep flowing out of me. I only have one full chapter outlined out and the rest is going to be relatively free form so the chapters may slow down a bit, but who really knows? I tried to keep it relatively T rated but there is intimacy suggested in this chapter. Normally I have no issue getting Mature with my sex scenes, but since Hermione is still technically underage, I felt a bit icky...luckily any further sex scenes will be between two adults...anyway, ENJOY

**The Black Lake, May, 1994**

Fleur sat on the log near the boat house by the lake, bouncing her legs up and down in anticipation. Tonight would be the night. Months of kissing, touching, courtship...tonight was the night all of it would culminate into...something. Fleur hoped it was something amazing. How could it not be? Everything felt amazing with Hermione. She had never found someone so easy for her to open up to, someone who was so sincere in their interest in her. It was a beautiful thing, and Fleur would do whatever it took to keep that. 

Fleur’s eyes darted around once again, searching for any sign of her beloved witch. Dinner had ended almost an hour ago, and Fleur had been sitting for at least a half hour. She had no idea what Hermione’s plan was, but she hoped that it would be implemented soon. She did not know how much longer she could wait to spend real time alone with her. Suddenly, Fleur heard a rustling coming towards her. “Allo? ‘Ermione?” Her eyes searched the area but saw nothing, still the noise grew louder. “If zis is some kind of prank…” Instantly, before her eyes, Hermione materialized, seeming to drop invisibility as if it were a shroud. 

Fleur’s eyes lit up in delight and were quick to grab the witch, pulling her into a hug. “My clever girl, what magic is zis?” She felt Hermione’s cheeks flush against her neck, sure it was a reaction to Fleur’s sudden possessive terms of endearment. She had hoped Hermione would like that.

Once they parted, Hermione smiled, her bright voice betraying her own delight in knowing magic that was not obvious to Fleur. “It’s an invisibility cloak...Harry’s cloak to be exact.” Fleur’s face softened in recognition. “Ah but of course, I ‘ave ‘eard of zose before but ‘ave never seen one. May I?” 

Hermione handed the cloak over for Fleur’s inspection. Fleur’s fingers trailed over the fabric, now visible not in use. The craftsmanship on it was impeccable and she could feel the pure magical energy that radiated off the ancient artifact. “‘Ermione this cloak is...exceptional. Far older than anything I have seen before...Tell ‘Arry to take good care of it.” Hermione nodded as Fleur handed the cloak back over. 

“Tonight, it is ours.” Hermione said as she wrapped herself up in it once more. Fleur smiled at the gesture, feeling more than confident that she would be able to sneak Hermione in with the cloak’s help. She felt invisible lips brush against her cheek and then a soft voice. “Well, what are you waiting for?” 

Needing no further encouragement, Fleur led Hermione down towards the Beauxbatons carriage. It was an easy enough task, most of the students were still lingering in the castle. After dinner was normally when others would socialize, taking time with the foreign students while they had it. The end of the year was coming quicker than Fleur cared to admit, and the third task. Pushing those thoughts once again out of her mind, she focused on tonight, slipping Hermione into the carriage and to her room with ease. Once the door closed, Fleur ensured the charms and enchantments to protect the room were up before turning to Hermione. Nobody would be disturbing them tonight…

**Beauxbatons Carriage, May, 1994**

Hermione’s heartbeat so loudly she was sure the few Beauxbatons students they did pass would have certainly heard it. It was all fun and excitement until she passed through the doors of the carriage. Unable to even begin to take in the extravagance inside, she was focused solely on what was about to happen. And how little she knew about what was about to happen. She had never been physical with anyone before, never mind with another girl, before Fleur. She doubted the stunning part Veela could say the same. In truth, Fleur’s experience had always intimidated Hermione, whether it be her advanced magic, her worldly background, or just her raw magnetism. In the past, that feeling was what drew Hermione to her, but now Hermione was feeling in just a bit over her head.

They reached the champion’s bedroom, and Fleur closed the door behind them. As Hermione removed the cloak, she felt many of her fears melt away as the fabric hit the floor. Her eyes met Fleur’s and there was a tension in the air that was beyond palpable. Neither witch seemed up to breaking the silence, or approaching the other. They had both talked a big game when they were unable to take things further, but now here they were with no excuses. No distractions. No fear of being caught. It was...terrifying in the most wonderful way.

Fleur was the first to break, much to Hermione’s relief. “I am sorry if ze room is not very well furnished. I only moved in zis morning.” Hermione glanced around the room. It was clearly comfortably furnished, but sparsely so. A bed bigger than anything Hermione had seen before took up most of the room. One side had a desk with an overstuffed armchair, and a bookshelf full of books in French. Scanning the titles, Hermione’s limited French skills told her only that they were full of advanced magic. On the other side of the bed was a dresser, on top of it what looked like an old gramophone record player, both enchanted no doubt.

Fleur had clearly noticed her gaze lingering on the music player, because the next words that broke the silence were hers again. “Do you like music? It is enchanted, just zink of ze song you wish to ‘ear and press ze play button et viola!” Hermione was intrigued and started making her way over to the machine. Fleur continued. “You can also request full albums or a list of songs for a playlist. It is quite impressive.” 

Hermione stopped in front of the gramophone, suddenly very aware of how little she knew about music. She never quite got into the wizard music Hogwarts had exposed her to, and before that it was mainly her parents’ music taste she heard. Not that she minded the disco music. When she was a little girl, her dad would dance her all around the living room while their mom sang along gleefully. It was some of Hermione’s best memories. Her mind traveled to a particular song she found easy to dance to and her finger pressed play.

The electronic disco beat started immediately and Hermione turned to see a slightly puzzled but amused look on Fleur’s face. This was clearly not the type of music Fleur had expected from her. She liked that, being unexpected to the witch who seemed to do everything near flawlessly. As the words kicked in, Hermione did a slight dance walk over to Fleur, grabbing her hands.

_ My head is in a spin, my feet don’t touch the ground _

_ Because you’re near to me my head goes round and round _

_ My knees are shaking baby, my heart it beats like a drum _

_ It feels like, it feels like I’m in love _

Hermione pulled Fleur closer to her, using her hands to guide Fleur’s hips and hands into a variety of dance moves. Fleur was easy to lead, clearly having been trained in dance before, though definitely not disco. In seconds, Fleur was seamlessly matching pace with Hermione, both of their dance moves getting more and more extravagant as they took advantage of the entire room, what limited space there was. 

A dance break saw both of the girls on top of the bed, shaking their hips and hands in what was surely ridiculously ways. However the joy on both of their faces made them the best dancers in the world to each other. 

_ It feels like, it feels like I’m in love! _

_ My knees shake, my heart beats like a drum! _

They sang to each other at the top of their lungs, the words easy enough for Fleur to pick up. As the music faded out, the girls fell down onto the bed, struggling to catch their breath between the dancing and the laughing. As the laughing quieted and they caught their breath, Hermione finally looked up at Fleur, who was already gazing down at her. As their eyes met, that same energy that always coursed through them kicked up. 

Hermione was unsure who leaned in first, but their lips crashed together with a desperation that had not been there before. Quickly losing themselves in the kiss, Hermione felt Fleur start to pull at her shirt, sliding it up further than she had ever dared to before. Feeling suddenly exposed, Hermione pulled away. “Wait…”

**Fleur’s Room, Beauxbatons Carriage, May, 1994**

Fleur looked down at the now hesitant witch in her arms and swallowed a bit. She knew it, she had gone too far. Hermione was not ready for this. Fleur had made a mistake. She waited for Hermione to continue and listened to the girls soft words. “It’s just...I’ve not done this before. With a boy or a girl. I don’t want to...disappoint you.” 

Fleur almost laughed in relief. So that’s what her witch was worried about. Impressing her. Fleur shook her head slightly and smiled warmly. “Ah ma chere, zat is not something you need to worry about. I am...also of similar experience.” She actually did laugh at the shocked face Hermione gave her and shrugged. “I could never tell if a boy was actually interested in me or just in ze thrall. I had never considered a woman before you...so…”

Hermione gave her own relieved laugh and shook her head. “I am so stupid, so very stupid” Fleur was quick to silence her with a kiss. “Non ma chere, you are ze smartest witch I ‘ave ever met and I cannot wait to share zis wiz you.” She did not allow another protest from Hermione as she brought her lips again down on the girl’s own. 

Fleur felt Hermione melt into her and the kiss, and once again started to work her hands at Hermione’s clothing. This time, Hermione was more than eager, starting her own work at Fleur’s clothing. Each took time to touch, caress, kiss every new area of skin exposed. Their lips and hands searched each other’s bodies for the places that they had only dreamt about touching tasting before. 

Clothes were completely lost, their naked skin came to life with goosebumps and shivers as they explored each other. At some point, patience lost out to passion and their touches and kisses became more feverish and desperate. It continued throughout the night, each girl craving to one up the other, leading to a pair of very exhausted girls. It was nearing morning by the time they were spent. Fleur’s arms slid around Hermione, one hand slipping in to play with her hair absentmindedly as they both drifted off to the most peaceful sleep either could remember. 

**Hogwarts, June, 1994**

Their trysts only continued from that night. If they could not get enough of each other before, it was much worse now. Every spare moment they could, they sought out the most private of places where they could spend time together. The sex itself was infrequent, there were only so many times Hermione could borrow the cloak without Harry asking too many questions. But those moments together where all that occupied their thoughts and time. 

By the time the third task came around, Fleur felt utterly hopeless as a champion, but that did not really matter to her anymore. There was something else more important than fortune or fame. Her beloved witch. The night before the task, Harry let Hermione borrow the cloak and Hermione spent the night with Fleur. Despite her devotion to the witch, the tournament was still something that troubled Fleur and Hermione's company eased her anxieties. It was also the first time they admitted their love for each other, through jokes of it possibly being the last night for Fleur. The jokes were just that, but the love was sincere.

Then, the third task happened. Fleur remembered very little of the actual task. She was the last to enter the maze, giving her a brief moment to catch Hermione’s eye and give her a wink before starting the challenge. She was taken out fairly quickly by the controlled Viktor. Brought out of the maze, she stayed with the others, breathlessly waiting for the actual champion to be announced. 

She was sad that she did not win, but the looks she and Hermione stole to each other more than made up for it. She would be rewarded like a champion tonight, whether she was one to the school or not, because she was a champion to the witch she loved, and who loved her. That was more than enough. Then, Harry Potter returned.

The next moments were a relative blur but the only thing coursing through Fleur’s mind was how she had utterly failed the tournament. How if she had tried harder, focused harder, done better, she could have been one of the champions to reach the cup with Potter. She could’ve been in the graveyard, she could have helped and perhaps things would have been different. She had failed. She let someone get close to her and there was death because of it.

**Hogwarts, 24th of June, 1994**

Hermione had been stealing glances with Fleur during the entire third task. She was still worried for Harry, of course, but she was more focused on how she would soften the blow of Fleur’s defeat for her. Then, Harry Potter returned.

Something was wrong, immediately she knew it. As the events began to unfold, she realized her mistakes. She had failed her friend. She did not help Harry prepare enough, she did not pay closer attention to the signs around him. She was the brightest witch in her year, and she failed to stop the rise of the Dark Lord because she was distracted by a silly romance. She should have seen the signs, she could have helped and perhaps things would have been different. She had failed. She let someone get close to her and there was death because of it. 

She saw Fleur only once again after that, as the Beauxbatons were leaving. They locked eyes, and instead of the sizzling energy they normally felt, they felt only impending doom. Because they had gotten close to each other, people had died, and many more were going to as well. They could never allow this to happen again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so we're finally here. At the chapter where my detailed outline ended and I'll be free flowing a bit more. That may mean chapter uploads become less frequent, but hopefully I keep this writing bug I've had and continue producing content at a steady rate. Thanks again for taking this journey with me. Once again theres a song reference. I hope you enjoy!

**1st of August, 1997**

Fleur pulled herself away from Bill as the disco beat and dancing around them continued. This was too much. It was all too much and Fleur was entirely overwhelmed. She had to speak to Hermione to clear the air once and for all, if only for her own sanity. If she was going to join the Weasley family, Hermione would be unavoidable and Fleur would just have to accept that. 

Bill gave her a puzzled look as she pulled out of his arms. “I just need some air” she responded, with a pacifying smile. Satisfied, Bill turned and continued dancing with his family that had congregated around them, and Fleur took her leave, keeping her eyes open for a certain witch. 

The song continued as Fleur made her way through the crowd. She found her target, dancing with the younger Weasley boy who had finally worn her down. Fleur noted with glee that there was quite a distance between the two, before the inner scolding returned. Steeling herself, she moved to cut in. 

“Ron? Your bruzzer would like to dance with you, I zink.” Fleur’s thrall was just enough to distract Ron from his dance partner and convince him to move along. Which was all very good, since Hermione was currently shooting daggers at Fleur with those sharp brown eyes Fleur loves to dive into. 

Once Ron left, Hermione turned to go as well. Fleur reached out and grabbed her wrist gently, and Hermione turned around, giving Fleur the first real look at her she’d had all night. Her dress was simple, the color not particularly flattering. She wore little makeup and her hair was pinned back in a casual manner. 

But it didn’t matter. She was absolutely breathtaking all the same. And especially adorable with the exasperated look drawn across her face. “What Fleur?” Her voice was pained, with a hint of desperation. “What do you want with me?” Her eyes mirrored the same desperate pain. 

That was the last thing Fleur wanted to see but she pushed through, forcing herself to speak over the pounding of her heart that flooded her ears. Ignoring the things she really wanted with her, Fleur let go of Hermione’s arm. “I just want to talk, for a few minutes.” 

There was a hesitation, the troubled and stubborn witch biting her lower lip as she considered Fleur’s proposal. Fleur waited for what seemed like an eternity before Hermione spoke. “Okay. Yes. We can do that.” A sense of relief, and dread cascaded over Fleur in the most contradicting of ways before they moved together away from the crowds of people, to the solitude outside, there fingertips just slightly brushing against each other’s as they walked. 

**Outside the Wedding, 1st of August, 1997**

Hermione had no idea what Fleur wanted to talk about, but her overactive mind raced with the possibilities. She had thought that avoiding Fleur was the best move, but it proved utterly impossible considering her own closeness with the Weasley family. A family Fleur was now a part of. 

Pushing down a pang of guilt, Hermione followed Fleur to a quiet, secluded spot out of earshot of the wedding or any of the guests within. She stared expectantly at the French witch, trying to conceal her dizzying array of thoughts. 

Fleur started to talk and cut herself off several times. “I just zought we should...I mean I suppose we will be… It’s just…” Fleur’s eyes traveled over Hermione and suddenly Hermione felt underdressed and underwhelming next to the part Veela bride. “You look beautiful, ‘Ermione…” 

Hermione felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she flushed deeply. “You know, you can’t just...pull me aside and…look at me with those eyes and...tell me I look beautiful!” But her faux anger was melting quickly as Fleur took a step towards her. 

A small chuckle came from Fleur’s perfectly parted lips, her voice a teasing lilt. “Oh? Zen what can I do wiz you?” Hermione felt her entire body flush at Fleur’s sudden change in demeanor. “Fleur...please...stop. For both of our sakes.” Fleur sighed softly and nodded, her smile slowly fading. “Zis is ridiculous, ‘Ermione. We cannot just avoid each uzzer forever.”

Hermione nodded slowly. Both witches were smart enough to know Fleur spoke the truth. They would have to deal with this at some point or another. Was Fleur’s wedding the best place to do so? Absolutely not, but here they were. Hermione was quiet for a moment, just staring at the bride, fully taking in her appearance for the first time. “You look...beautiful too Fleur. And you’re right. What do we do?” 

There was years of repressed feelings coursing through the mind of Hermione and she could only assume Fleur was feeling the same by the way she stared at her, with an almost hunger. “Well, we are at my wedding, non? Hardly ze place for a lengthy conversation. Per’aps we can actually talk about zis tomorrow? Once zings have settled a bit, before you all depart?”

There was an ache in Hermione’s heart as she considered spending more time alone with Fleur. She had longed for the lengthy and engaging conversations she used to have with her former lover, and she wanted more than anything to be able to do so again. She stared into the deep blue eyes before her and tried to ignore the same electricity coursing through her body that she always felt when those eyes caught hers. “We should...That would...Yes, I would really like to do that, Fleur.”

As soon as she agreed, she knew it was a mistake. She knew that once they were properly alone, it would take every modicum of will power not to fall back into old habits, and that kind of distraction was something she could not allow, especially now of all times. Never mind the fact that Fleur was married now. But it was too late, she was entirely hooked again. 

Fleur’s voice broke her thoughts. “‘Ow about a dance, ‘Ermione?” Hermione looked at Fleur’s outstretched hand and could not contain her smile. Ignoring every single red flag and warning bell that was going off in her hand, including the spark in her fingertips when she took Fleur’s hand. “One dance…”

**Inside the Wedding, 1st of August, 1997**

Fleur was playing a dangerous game. Even more dangerous than the one at Hogwarts. She knew it. The moment she stepped outside with Hermione, she knew she was making a huge mistake. But she couldn’t stop herself, she was forever enraptured by the thrall of the bright young witch, no matter how hard she would try to resist. Because she did try to resist...she did. Maybe not her hardest, but she tried. 

Fleur had dragged Hermione back into the wedding, with the first real smile on her face that day. Everything felt a bit lighter when she was with Hermione, there was none of the overlying anxiety she normally felt around large crowds of people. She noticed a few odd looks from people, Bill and Ron in particular. 

They had never considered Fleur and Hermione to have any kind of relationship together outside of them, but Fleur brushed it away. The only reaction she truly noted was the one from the strange face she knew was a polyjuiced Harry. A strange look, that turned into a knowing smile.

She wasn’t about to allow that to ruin her time though. She did not know how long Hermione would indulge her, but she planned to make the best of it. This music had to change though. It was not good enough for her Hermione. For Hermione. 

She led Hermione over to the band and put in her request. Immediately, a different muggle song erupted as some classic synth pop beats started. Fleur developed quite an obsession with muggle music after her time at Hogwarts. Hermione laughed slightly and shook her head, before erupting into dance with Fleur.

_ All I know is that to me _

_ You look like you're lots of fun _

_ Open up your lovin' arms _

_ I want some, want some _

  
  


Plenty of people around the room were giving them odd looks now, though perhaps it was more because of their outrageous dance moves. As soon as the music started, they were young girls again, back in that carriage at Hogwarts. Just two students enjoying one another’s company, without a care in the world. It was utter bliss for both of them and something they did not know how much they needed. Eventually the whole room was taken over by the energy and the dancing became wilder, everyone getting lost in the sauce.

_ You spin me right 'round, baby, right 'round _

_ Like a record, baby, right 'round, 'round, 'round _

_ You spin me right 'round, baby, right 'round _

_ Like a record, baby, right 'round, 'round, 'round _

Their dancing had gotten closer and closer quarters as the song progressed. The danger of losing themselves in each others company was the risk of forgetting that everybody else could see them. Fleur’s eyes did not leave Hermione’s as she let her hands slide to her waist, closing the gap between them. Hermione gasped softly at the contact and instinctively raised her head up towards Fleur’s. The entire rest of the room forgotten, Fleur found herself moving towards Hermione, wanting so badly to taste her once again. 

Suddenly, the loud, deep, slow voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt echoed throughout the room as the music stopped.

“The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.” 

Then, there was a scream.

Broken from each other’s trance, Fleur and Hermione immediately separated as the crowd began to panic. Fleur left to find her new husband, and Hermione ran off to seek her friends. Death Eaters began to appear, throwing spells that were quickly returned by the variety of guests running, fighting, and Disapparating. 

One last look to each other confirmed, once again, what had been reinforced to Fleur and Hermione over and over again. Whenever they gave into whatever temptations they had for each other, tragedy was soon to follow. Fleur genuinely had no idea if she would ever see Hermione again. A small part of her thought it was for the best if they didn’t. A bigger part than she’d ever admit yearned to hold her in her arms once again and was terrified for her fate.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and the gang return to Shell Cottage post Malfoy Manor, and Fleur must step up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really proud of myself for the pace I'm keeping. I'm also very grateful for all the reviews and kudos and fun stuff! Thank you so much! I ended up spending last night outlining the next five or so chapters, so we're going on the right track to keep pumping these chapters out. Hope you enjoy!

**Shell Cottage, March 15th, 1998**

Fleur had been living with Bill at the cottage since their escape after the wedding. Covered in every type of ward and protection charm known to wizardkind with at least two powerful spellcasters in it at all times, it was the only true safe house left in the country. The constant threat of war caused strife between the newlyweds, turning what should be a literal honeymoon into anxiety filled days and restless nights. 

Most of the time, Fleur wouldn’t even end up sleeping with Bill. He would wake early, just as Fleur was going to bed. Fleur spent her afternoons tending to the house and her nights studying, while Bill checked the defenses of the house in the mornings and took care of the grounds in the afternoon. They rarely saw each other, which was something that clearly upset Bill more than it did Fleur. 

She just felt that her marriage should take a back seat to the turmoil literally tearing through the lands. Learning and practicing battle magic and healing seemed like a much more important investment of her time. Bill always ended up agreeing with her the few times they had argued about it, and at this point they had just settled into a routine. 

That is, until one evening the routine was broken by the sudden arrival of Luna, Dean, Mr. Ollivander, and the goblin Griphook. It was unexpected, yet at the same time exactly what Bill and Fleur were preparing for the past few months. 

Bill and Fleur were just starting to get the story when another crack announced the arrival of more guests. Looking up, Fleur saw Ron crashing through the front door, with an unconscious Hermione in his arms. “Bill! Fleur! You have to help!” 

Both of them rushed forward, Fleur taking Hermione and Bill grabbing his brother. “Where’s Harry?!” she heard her husband ask. To be quite honest, Fleur did not hear the answer as her entire mind flooded with despair. “‘Ermione…” she said softly to the limp witch in her arms.

Turning her attention back to the boys, she swallowed hard and tried to steady her voice. “I shall take ‘er to one of ze rooms and help her.” Ron nodded wordlessly as Fleur turned and carried the broken woman to a private room in the cottage. 

She laid Hermione across one of the two beds in the room, before going back to close the door behind them. Pushing down the feeling of anguish at seeing the woman she loved in this state, she steeled herself and turned to face her patient. 

Fleur took her time undressing Hermione, something she had never actually done before. When she had disrobed the witch before, it was always in a heat of passion and with a sense of desperate urgency. This time was far, far different. First her shoes and socks, caked with dirt and grime, then she carefully removed Hermione’s pants, holding back a soft gasp.

There were bruises all up and down Hermione’s legs, as if someone had pinned her down with their knees. Composing herself, she carried on, carefully pulling off the sweater and shirt, careful not to damage the woman any further. When it came to removing her shirt, she saw blood stains on the arm that did not soak through to the sweater. Removing it revealed the word “Mudblood” carved into her forearm. 

Fleur swallowed back the bile that threatened to come up at the disgusting sight. The kind of cruelty it would take a person to do this. And that was just the beginning. Clad in only her underwear, Hermione’s body revealed an exuberant amount of trauma. Bruises and superficial looking cuts littered her skin, telling the story of someone not only tortured magically, but with some kind of sharp blade as well. 

After examining her for any internal damage, thankfully very little, Fleur was quick to conjure a sponge and tub of warm water she enchanted to disinfect. As soon as she finished the enchantment, there was a knock at the door. 

Standing, irritated at being disturbed, she quickly strode over to it and opened it just enough to speak. It was Bill, with an anxious looking Ron behind him. “We need to talk” His voice was firm but had a weariness to it. Fleur’s brow furrowed. “‘Ow dare you? I am in ze middle of taking care of ‘Ermione and I will not be disturbed til I am finished.” 

With that, she slammed the door and activated the locking ward. She heard Bill speaking to Ron quietly and then shuffling away. ‘Good’ Fleur thought to herself. ‘Now, I can work in peace’. Returning to Hermione, she began the long and careful ordeal of cleaning every cut and bruise on the broken body. She hummed softly to herself as she worked, hoping to draw some of her inert Veela magic help to assist her healing. 

Hermione’s face and hair were more difficult. That impossibly thick, brown hair that was now caked with blood and dirt and who knows what else. Fleur had to use a bit more magic than just the sponge and water to clean it all out, but eventually she finished. With tamed hair, and a clean face, the witch looked worlds better than she had to begin with, though still unconscious. 

Finally, there was just one part left to do. Fleur took a deep breath to help her ready herself and she carefully cut away Hermione’s underwear to do a careful examination. After seeing the brushes on her knees, and hearing the stories of how women could be treated in the captivity of the Death Eaters, she was prepared for almost anything. Saying a small apology for any violation, she examined Hermione’s more delicate areas. Finding nothing more than other superficial cuts and bruises, Fleur quickly tended to them and then covered Hermione with a thick blanket. 

She would have to get her clothes. The clothes she came in were beyond any hope. Rising from the bed, she left the room quietly, locking it behind her. As she walked through the cottage towards her bedroom, Bill tried to catch her eye but she just lifted her hand in a dismissal. Not yet, was the clear message and Bill reluctantly received it. Reaching her bedroom, she carefully went through her clothes. Pulling out a pair of boyshort style underwear, a pair of linen pajama pants, and a simple black long sleeved shirt. Her eyes lingered over some of her own more…adult night clothes and her cheeks flushed as she had a brief flash of Hermione wearing one of those pieces. ‘Sacre bleu, now is not the time’. 

Feeling terrible at her thoughts, she returned to the bedroom where her patient lay. Entering the room, she checked to see if Hermione had awoken yet. Seeing the woman still out cold, she furrowed her brow. She could not imagine the kind of torment Hermione had endured to complete exhaust her body like that. She could, of course, wake her through magical means, but it was clear that Hermione had not rested properly in quite some time and would need all the time Fleur could squeeze out of her to heal. It was only a matter of time before she was awake and ready to take on the world with Harry and Ron again.

Bringing the clothes to the bed, Fleur pulled back the blanket. Now that she had been cleaned up, and taken care of, Fleur could not help but pause for a brief moment. The bruises already started to fade, as did many of the superficial cuts, but the Mudblood was still clear on her arm, marring her otherwise perfect body. Fleur’s brow furrowed. She would have to speak with Hermione about that, as it seemed that removing it would require a higher level of magic. 

Beyond that, her witch was perfect. ‘Non’ Fleur told herself. ‘Not my witch.’ Hermione was perfect, having grown into a woman that was still entirely familiar to Fleur. She quickly realized how violating it might be to indulge herself any further, even just to look and set to getting her dressed. She was careful as she pulled the clothing on, not wanting to hurt Hermione further, or even to wake her. Besides Hermione needing the rest, Fleur did not want to add any stress to her with her presence. 

As she finished, Fleur positioned Hermione and the pillows as comfortably as she could and pulled the blanket over her. Sitting on the bed, finished with her work, Fleur finally allowed herself to take a break from Healer mode and look at the woman she could not admit she loved. 

Reaching a hand up to brush the hair from her face, she let her fingers linger over her cheek, speaking softly. “Mon coeur, you are so brave. But you cannot keep doing zis to yourself. I could not bear to lose you… even if I do not get to have you.” She leaned down and planted a kiss on her forehead, one on each cheek, and then could not resist the temptation, planting a soft kiss on her lips.

Standing up and checking to make sure Hermione was comfortable one last time, Fleur sighed. She wished she could stay by her side until she woke, but that was too dangerous for many different reasons. Fleur had to check in with the others, tend other wounds they may have, and could not answer questions as to why she was so dedicated to Hermione’s recovery alone. 

With one last look at the sleeping witch, Fleur ran her fingers through her own hair and opened the door. Closing it behind her, she went to find the others. There was still more work to be done, and until Hermione herself woke up, there was nothing else Fleur could do except get as much information as she could from the others to help them in their mission.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione's recuperation, and preparation for leaving Shell Cottage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am DETERMINED to keep up a good pace and am glad I am doing so. I'm just spitting words out, so I have no idea if my writing is any good or not, or if I'm keeping close to canon but I appreciate you all taking this ride with me! Without further ado...

**Shell Cottage, March 16th, 1998**

A stream of light breaking across her face is what woke Hermione. Soon the light was blocked by a head, with light blonde hair. Hermione tried to blink her grogginess away “Fleur..?” She had a vague memory of Fleur nearby recently. A chipper, familiar, definitely not French voice responded. “No silly! Though corr what a compliment!” 

Hermione smiled and her eyes cleared up. Luna Lovegood. The one and only. Luna backed away from her to give her some space to sit up. Groaning, she tried to assess the situation. She was in a bedroom, with two beds. Luna now sat on the second one. She started stretching out her muscles, testing them. 

She was shocked. She had vague memories of the ordeal she had been through, yet could find little to no bruising or lacerations. And the soreness she felt was mostly from staying in one spot for so long as she slept. There was a dull ache on her arm and she rolled back the sleeve of the long sleeved shirt. Mudblood. There it was. Staring at her. 

Tears filled her eyes but she blinked them away, quickly pulling the sleeve down before Luna could see. The wound itself had completely scarred over, indicating it was most definitely a magical affliction that wouldn’t be so easy to get rid of. ‘That is a problem for another day’ she told herself, thankful she had a long sleeve shirt on. 

She paused and looked down at her clothes, just realizing that she was wearing entirely different clothes and that she had been bathed and taken care of. Glancing over at Luna, she questioned “Who took care of me? Where are we?” 

Luna was happy to provide the answer, though it was one Hermione already suspected. “This is Shell Cottage, Bill and Fleur’s abode. She’s the one who saw to you, wouldn’t let any of us in until you were taken care of, even put off helping any of the others…” Luna gave Hermione a curious look. “Strange, isn’t it? You didn’t even arrive first but Fleur dropped everything to help you…” 

Hermione stayed quiet as her cheeks flushed. Thankfully, Luna looked away. “Ah well, that’s not something worth pondering too long. We should probably try to get you up and about.” Luna looked back up at Hermione, a sad, faraway look on her face. “It’s almost time for Dobby’s funeral…”

A cloud of sadness fell over the room, as more memories of the past events flooded over Hermione. It was going to get so much harder before it got any easier for them. Luna helped her change into the clothing that had been left on top of the trunk at the foot of her bed. A pair of black soft sweatpants, another pair of boy short style underwear, and another long sleeved shirt, with a plush terry cloth robe. 

After she dressed, she pulled the robe up around her face and inhaled. Just as she thought. The sweet, comforting aroma of Fleur. She felt oddly reassured wearing Fleur’s clothing, protected as Luna escorted her out into the yard where the funeral was being held. 

It was a short ceremony. When Fleur saw Hermione emerging, Hermione saw a look of immense relief cross over the French witch’s face. She gave Fleur a small smile, and they both turned their attention to the small service. Once it finished, Hermione saw Fleur love to walk towards her, but Bill grabbed her hand and that seemed to stop her. They all filed into the house and started to get to work. 

  
  


**Shell Cottage, April, 1998**

As the weeks of planning went on, the whole household seemed to fall into a routine. Fleur and Bill’s stayed pretty much the same, with Fleur adding some Healer duties to take care of the other injured people in the house. She tried to keep herself as occupied as possible, avoiding encounters with Hermione as her, Harry, and Ron holed themselves up. 

The only times Fleur really saw Hermione was when Hermione was outside, practicing magic with Bellatrix’s wand. It would have been amusing, watching how the brightest witch of her generation would get frustrated trying to cast the simplest of magic, but the circumstances were too dire to find enjoyment in how her brow would furrow and the many times she threw the wand across the lawn. It was then that Fleur decided to get Hermione a new wand. For practical reasons, of course. 

Fleur spoke to Mr Ollivander before he left and worked out a game plan. She still had several strands of her grandmother’s hair, as a back up in case her own wand broke, but it took quite some convincing to get the older wizard to agree to work with it and even more convincing to inlay a small part of the new vinewood wand with a piece of rosewood. 

Mr Ollivander was famous for refusing to work with Veela hair or rosewood, so Fleur had to pull out all the stops to convince him towards the design she had in mind. She may have let some of her thrall aid in her negotiations, but eventually she convinced him that a witch of Hermione’s importance needed an exceptional wand and when he left, he left with plans to send a finished wand back to Shell Cottage within a few weeks.

**Shell Cottage, 17th of April, 1998**

Lupin’s happy news about the birth of his son was exactly what the cottage needed to lift its spirits. That was most likely why Bill and Fleur insisted Lupin stay for a drink, giving an excuse for all of them to relax a little. Hermione was hesitant at first, her eyes flashing up to Fleur as Fleur brought the wine, filling goblets heavily. 

Was it wise for her to drink around the French witch? They had managed to avoid each other for the most part, Fleur always seemed locked up taking care of someone or studying something. Yet every morning, Hermione woke up to a pair of fresh clothes on top of the trunk at the foot of her bed, and every morning she would inhale the familiar scent the clothes carried. 

She was playing a dangerous game, but she was tired of being on edge, and wasn’t sure when another opportunity would be granted. Grabbing one of the goblets, she drank deeply, staring directly at Fleur until she saw the bright blue eyes flash to hers. 

Hermione saw the look of surprise come across Fleur’s face and felt somewhat satisfied that she was still able to throw the witch off a bit. She allowed a small smile to play across her lips, and both girls’ cheeks flushed when Fleur returned the smile before taking the now empty wine pitcher back to the kitchen to refill it. 

Several pitchers later, and Lupin finally was able to escape to return to his new child and wife. Hermione finished her third goblet, or was it fourth...she wasn’t paying too much attention. Fleur had kept the wine flowing for them all, though had now began to clear up the goblets. 

Luna, Ron, and Dean were having a conversation on one side of the room. Bill had taken Harry into the kitchen and soon Fleur left the kitchen, empty goblets still in hand. Hermione watched Fleur shake her head, put the goblets on a nearby table, and disappear further into the cottage. Now would probably be her only chance.

Bolstered by the look they shared earlier, as well as three or four goblets of wine, Hermione stood up and glanced once more around the room. Ensuring that no one would notice her departure, she left the living room and followed Fleur. Taking a deep breath, she came upon the door to Bill and Fleur’s room. She could hear someone behind the door, shuffling around.

Raising her fist, she knocked on the door. From within, she heard a soft voice. “Allo? Bill is zat you?” Clearing her throat, Hermione spoke, sealing her fate. “It’s me...Hermione.” There was quiet for a moment, and then the door opened. Before her stood Fleur, clearly in a state of undress as she was clad in a lace trimmed bra and what seemed to be a pair of light sweatpants, but just as flawless as ever. 

Fleur had a puzzled look on her face but Hermione had no time for it. She pushed past Fleur into the room, and paused for a moment to take in her surroundings as Fleur closed the door behind them, whispering a locking charm as she did so. 

The room was relatively bare, a far cry from the quarters Fleur had kept on the carriage. As the days progressed in the carriage, Fleur had made her private bedroom her own by adding colorful art pieces and other small signs of personalization. This bedroom was devoid of anything that wasn’t necessary, and was clearly only used for changing and sleeping. This hurt Hermione’s heart, though she wasn’t quite sure why.

Hearing the locking charm, Hermione turned to look at Fleur. There was a moment of silence before Fleur spoke, “Listen, ‘Ermione...I’m sorr-” Her words were cut off as Hermione strode deliberately towards her and crushed her lips against Fleur’s own. Hermione smiled against Fleur’s lips as she heard a small whimper from the woman. Hermione’s hands were quick to travel up the bare skin against her, allowing her fingertips to brush against the lace she had seen before. 

Fleur’s body reacted immediately to the kiss, pressing flush against Hermione as Hermione’s hands explored every inch of bare flesh she could touch. Fleur’s fingers were quickly buried in her thick brown hair, and Hermione could feel a slight tug that she did not mind. It was like muscle memory flooding back to them, bringing them back to their teen years. 

It continued for another minute or two before there was a knock on the bedroom door, and they could hear Bill’s voice. “Fleur? You locked the door… You know I can’t break your charms, and I’m knackered.” Leaping apart, Fleur cleared her throat and quickly looked around the room. “Just a moment!” She grabbed a shirt that was on the floor and pulled it on. It was clearly one of Bill’s dirty ones but it would have to do.

Fleur went to open the door, while Hermione tried to compose herself. Hermione was already regretting her decision. What was she thinking, trying something so risky. She just completely lost her brain when she was around Fleur and that was dangerous. They knew that was dangerous. 

The door opened and Bill stepped in, giving Hermione a questioning look. “Fleur?” Fleur cleared her throat and gave him a reassuring smile. “‘Ermione just had a private question about some of ze ‘ealing I performed on ‘er. Nothing serious, I promise.” Fleur looked back at Hermione and Hermione nodded quickly, taking the hint and walking towards the door.

“Yeah, absolutely, just had a question, but everything seems...fine now. Thank you for helping me.” Hermione walked past Bill out the bedroom door, as he moved into the room and started pulling his shirt off, clearly ready for bed. Fleur grabbed Hermione’s wrist gently as she started to leave and when she spoke, there was a quiet desperation in her voice. “We can speak more about zis tomorrow, yes ‘Ermione?” Fleur gave Hermione a pleading look as Hermione slowly pulled her arm from Fleur’s grasp. “Yeah, of course…”

**Shell Cottage, 1st of May, 1998**

They did not speak again for the rest of Hermione’s stay beyond mild pleasantries. It seems both of them resigned to agree that night had been a product of the alcohol alone, and soon Hermione was lost once again in her planning with Ron and Harry. Eventually, it was time for them to leave.

Once everything was packed up, Bill and Fleur making sure that they were provided with everything they could be, Fleur checked their owls once more to see if anything from Ollivander had come yet. Disappointed, she went to meet with the rest of them to see the Trio off. 

Hermione had avoided her since the night Lupin’s son was born, which was probably for the best. But as Fleur watched them get ready to leave and say their goodbyes, she could not resist pulling Hermione into a closer hug. Her lips brushed against Hermione’s ear as she whispered. “Please stay safe…” She felt Hermione melt against her embrace slightly before pulling away. Then, the Trio disappeared.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle of Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in a day again, and I still have a few chapters outlined! I appreciate you all sticking through all this, I know its been a lot of angst, but I promise once the war finishes, the story will hopefully get a lot fluffier...and, spoiler alert, the next chapter should be almost pure fluff...almost...anyway, enjoy and as always I appreciate any reviews left to motivate me further!

**Hogwarts, 2nd of May, 1998**

As they reached the Room of Requirement, Fleur told Bill that she had to find Hermione. He nodded in agreement. He was actually the one who saw the owl from Ollivander about an hour after the Trio had left Shell Cottage. He was surprised that Fleur would go out of her way for Hermione, but there was not much he could question about it. 

Searching the masses of students and adults that now occupied the Room, Fleur kept searching for the familiar mass of brown hair, long package in her hand. She stopped several students to inquire on the witch’s whereabouts but no one could seem to find her. Finally, she found someone who told her that they had seen Hermione leaving with Ron not too long after Harry had left.

Without thinking to tell the others where she was going, she left the room and immediately regretted it. Hogwarts was huge, massive really. She had not been there in years, and she barely knew the lay of the land when she had visited. That, on top of not even knowing where Hermione could have been heading, made this into probably the worst plan she had ever had. 

Suddenly, she felt a strange warmth from within the package. She quickly unwrapped the wand, worried something may be wrong with it. As she pulled back the wrapping, she gasped softly. It was perfect, exactly what she had pictured. The vinewood started to vibrate slightly and Fleur felt a slight tug from the wand, guiding her down the hall. She was shocked. 

She had heard lore of vinewood before, in fact Ollivander brought it up when she tried to convince him to change Hermione’s wood. But Ollivander was insistent. Vine wands seem strongly attracted by personalities with hidden depths, and Ollivander himself has found them more sensitive than any other when it comes to instantly detecting a prospective match. He claimed that these wands can emit  [ magical ](https://harrypotter.fandom.com/wiki/Magic) effects upon the mere entrance into their room of a suitable owner, and he experienced that personally twice. No doubt a similar magic was calling out now. 

Fleur followed the wand, racing through what seemed to be a labyrinth of corridors, matched with staircases that Fleur had forgotten were prone to movement. Finally, she made her way to what appeared to be a girl’s bathroom. Just as she was about to enter, she heard Ron and Hermione leaving, nearly bumping into her. 

“Who-?! Oh, Fleur?” Ron looked up in shock and Fleur took both of them in. They were covered in dirt and grime and some other strange substance that looked vaguely like basilisk blood. Fleur had seen the liquid only in advanced potion making. Looking down at their hands, she saw that they both held what looked like fangs. Then the stench hit her, like the worst kind of rotting flesh. 

Hermione looked shocked to see Fleur, and then mortified, no doubt realizing how filthy she looked. Fleur gave them both a smile and looked at Ron. “Ron, your family...our family, ‘as arrived in the Room and would no doubt like to see you. Do you mind if I speak with ‘Ermione?” Ron nodded, giving Hermione a strange look before leaving them. 

Hermione waited for Ron to leave before slowly walking after him. Fleur could tell that she was unwilling to waste time. But this was important. “What are you doing here, Fleur? Why aren’t you with the others?” Hermione sounded irritated. Fleur bit her lower lip and swallowed, clearing her throat. 

“I ‘ave something for you, ‘Ermione. Something important. Can you please stop walking for just one moment?” Fleur grabbed Hermione’s wrist, much in the same way she did when Hermione left her bedroom at Shell Cottage. Hermione stopped and turned to look at Fleur, actually glancing down at her hand where Fleur held the new wand. 

“Is that...That looks like my wand...but…” Hermione was clearly confused. Fleur just wordlessly held the wand out to her. The wand itself was almost electric, itching to get in the hands of its new wielder. Hermione silently looked over the wand. 

The wand was almost identical to the one Hermione had before, with the same stylisting carving pattern. 10 and ¾ inches long, made with vine wood. The only differences were the Veela hair core and a small flower inlayed on the bottom of the wand with rosewood. Closer inspection revealed it was a detailed rose. Hermione looked up at Fleur, searching for an answer.

“It was torture, you know? Trying to watch you cast with zat twisted piece of wood. I ‘ad to do something.” Fleur shifted nervously, trying to keep Hermione’s gaze. Suddenly she worried she overstepped somehow. “I spoke to Ollivander. It’s ze same size and wood as your old one, well you know zat. But ze core...it’s a Veela hair, my grandmother’s...ze same as mine.” She was careful not to mention the rosewood inlay. That part was almost too personal.

Hermione was quiet, considering everything that Fleur had just told her. She ran her fingers over the wand, slipping it into her wand hand and pointing it down the hallway. “Expecto Patronum!” A rather large, silver otter erupted from the end of her wand, prancing down the hallway before disappearing. 

Fleur had heard of Hermione’s ability to produce a corporeal patronus, but to see it in real life was spectacular. Hermione looked back to Fleur and gave her a soft smile, her eyes full of grateful tears. “Thank you, Fleur...really, just thank you.” Fleur smiled back at her and they both set off down the hallway, back towards the Room of Requirement.

**Great Hall, Hogwarts, 2nd of May, 1998**

Hermione sat in the Great Hall, among the chaos of the first attack. An armistice had been called, which was desperately needed for their side. They had already lost so many...Fred, Lupin, Tonks… Hermione felt numb when she thought about it. Looking up, she searched for any sign of familiarity around her to help ground her.

She found it in the silver white hair that was weaving in and out of the crowds. Fleur had stepped up to help with healing, all those months of study and practice finally coming to full use. And she was glorious. Watching her tend to the wounded was like watching a choreographed dance. A reassuring sight in these very darkest of times.

Hermione pulled out her wand again, looking it over for the second time that night. It was absolutely remarkable. It felt exactly like her broken wand except, warmer… More connected to her, if that made any sense. She thought it would feel weird that Fleur’s grandmother’s hair was the core, but honestly it gave her a comfort that she did not expect. 

She ran her thumb over the inlayed rose at the bottom of the wand. The rosewood. She knew that was the wood Fleur’s wand was made of, one Ollivander hardly ever used. It must have taken Fleur a lot to convince him to make this wand. Was Hermione really worth all that to Fleur?

She was not given much time to contemplate this question. Suddenly, Ron was upon her, shaking her shoulder. “Oi, ‘Mione...Have you seen Harry anywhere?” They both realized they hadn’t for quite some time and immediately started searching. Soon after, his death was announced, sparking up the fighters once more to take the field, for one last battle.

**Hogwarts’ Grounds, 2nd of March, 1998**

The death of Harry had spurred on one last all out battle on the Hogwarts’ grounds. Fifty yards away from The Dark Lord himself, Bellatrix Lestrange dueled three women; Hermione, Luna, and Ginny. The three girls were battling their hardest, but Bellatrix was holding them off with apparent ease. Then, a green flash streaked from Bellatrix’s wand, nearly singeing Hermione’s thick, brown hair. That would prove to be her fatal mistake. 

“ PAS MA BIEN-AIMEE, SALOPE!” Fleur threw off her cloak as she ran, freeing her arms. Bellatrix spun on the spot, roaring with laughter at the sight of her new challenger. “OUT OF MY WAY!” shouted Fleur to the three girls, and with a swipe of her wand she began to duel. 

Hermione watched with terror and elation as Fleur Delacour’s wand slashed and twirled, and Bellatrix Lestrange’s smile faltered and became a snarl. Jets of light flew from both wands, the floor around the witches’ feet became hot and cracked; both women were fighting to kill. 

“Non!” Fleur cried as a few students ran forward, trying to come to her aid. “Get back! Get back! She is mine!” Hundreds of people now lined the walls, watching the two fight, Bellatrix and Fleur. “What will happen to your beloved when I’ve killed you?” taunted Bellatrix, as mad as her master, capering as Fleur’s curses danced around her.

“You — will — never — touch — ‘er — again!” screamed Fleur, remembering every mark and bruise that she healed from Hermione’s body. Remembering the cursed word Bellatrix had marked her perfect skin with. Bellatrix laughed, but it was too late. Fleur’s curse soared beneath Bellatrix’s outstretched arm and hit her squarely in the chest, directly over her heart. Bellatrix’s gloating smile froze, her eyes seemed to bulge: For the tiniest space of time she knew what had happened, and then she toppled.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the battle over, Hermione and Fleur take a moment to celebrate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, hope you enjoy this much needed fluff. This here ends the books/movies adjacent story and from now on I’ll be branching out totally on my own. I hope you continue to enjoy it! There will still be a little drama, but with the dark lord gone expect more fluff and fun in the future chapters!

**Great Hall, 3rd of May, 1998**

The battle ended well past midnight, with the sun beginning to rise as things began to settle down. Now was a time for recovery and rebuilding. People began to crowd back into the castle, sorting the wounded back into the Great Hall and the exhausted into the various abandoned House dormitories. 

Hermione briefly glanced over the crowds of people, anxiously searching for that familiar silver hair. She saw the Weasley’s, some splitting off to sleep in the Gryffindor dorms, some splitting off to the Great Hall. Fleur was not among them, but Hermione could assume the witch was Healing in the Great Hall. 

She followed the flow of people helping others into the Great Hall and found Fleur almost instantly. She was impossible to miss as she moved from makeshift bed to makeshift bed, doing the healing she could. Hermione could tell it was taking a toll on her. 

Approaching Fleur, she spoke softly. “Fleur...there are other Healers now. Do you think maybe it’s time to take a break?” Fleur seemed to be in a trance, not responding as she moved to another patient. Hermione remembered the look in Fleur’s eye as she attacked Bellatrix and suddenly Hermione wondered if Fleur had ever taken a life before. 

Reaching out to gently grab Fleur’s wrist, the same way Fleur grabbed hers and Fleur seemed to snap out of it, seeing Hermione for the first time. “Fleur, it’s time to take a break.” Fleur opened her mouth to protest but Hermione gave her a firm look and started leading her out of the Great Hall. 

Fleur’s grip on Hermione’s hand tightened as they passed through the crowds. Already some of the older wizards and witches were stepping up to help with healing. It was far from over but the worst had past. 

They left the Great Hall and Hermione started heading along probably the most familiar route to her through Hogwarts. Up the stairs, through the corridors, the eyes of the paintings following them as they walked together, wordlessly, hand in hand.

Finally, they arrived at Hermione’s destination. The Hogwarts Library. The place they first truly connected. It did not stay untouched during the Death Eater occupation. Books were tossed off shelves, tables and chairs flipped and torn up. The sight made Hermione’s heart ache, but as they walked further into the library, it was clear most of the damage was superficial and did not extend too far. 

Hermione led Fleur back to the familiar, secluded corner they used to frequent so much in school. It was relatively untouched, with just a few books knocked off the shelf littering the floor. A few stuffed armchairs provided large cushions that Hermione used to make a nest on the floor hidden behind the bookshelves. Fleur just watched her, unwilling to break the silence between them. 

Eventually, Hermione finished constructing her nest. She straightened up and turned to look at Fleur, a soft smile on her face. “I am very proud of you, Fleur. The way you have been helping the injured. The way you protected all of us from...from her.” Hermione stepped towards Fleur, taking both of Fleur’s hands and putting them on her own waist. 

“You gave me a new wand. You saw me struggle and you went out of your way to help me.” Hermione moved one hand up to cup Fleur’s cheek, staring straight into her eyes. She could feel Fleur’s cheek flush beneath her hand. “I love you, Fleur Delacour”

**Hogwarts’ Library, 3rd of May, 1998**

Hermione’s profession of love was all Fleur needed for encouragement. She crushed her lips against Hermione’s in a passionate kiss, pulling Hermione flush against her body by her hips. Hermione kissed back, parting her lips to allow her tongue to dance against Fleur’s.

Fleur was wasting no more time. She quickly began to pull at Hermione’s clothing, and Hermione started doing the same to Fleur. There was no stopping them now. Half delirious, they quickly stripped off each other’s clothing, their lips only parting when necessary. They had waited years for this moment without even knowing they were waiting. 

They fell into the nest Hermione made, laughing against each other’s lips as they continued to explore each other’s bodies with their hands. It was strange. Their bodies were so familiar to each other and yet completely different than those years ago. 

Hermione reacted eagerly against Fleur’s touch, urging her on more and more until she completely lost herself, her entire body shaking against Fleur’s. Fleur couldn’t get enough of it. She broke away from the kiss to trail kisses down Hermione’s neck, flicking her tongue against her skin in a way that increased Hermione’s movement against her. 

It was entirely intoxicating and only just beginning. Once Fleur gave Hermione enough of a chance to recover, Hermione was quick to return the favor to Fleur, this time using her mouth. Starting with Fleur’s own neck and trailing kisses down her bare breasts, over her stomach, dipping lower and lower until she felt Fleur’s legs curl around her head. 

Lavishing Fleur with her tongue, Hermione seemed encouraged by how Fleur tried to buck against her, using her arms to hold her down firmly. Fleur completely lost her head. For so long, all she could dream of at night was Hermione. The only thing she truly desired was to be loved by Hermione like she was now. 

And on it went, back and forth, each girl taking precisely as much time as they desired with the other. There were bouts of furious passion, and bouts of gentle tenderness, but each moment was cherished by both of them until finally they allowed exhaustion to take over. Summoning a blanket from a nearby closet, Fleur wrapped themselves up in it, letting her body entangle with Hermione’s, and burying her face in the thick brown hair. She inhaled deeply, savoring every detail of holding the witch her arms, and they both drifted off to a deep and restful sleep. 

**Later that day**

Hermione woke, hours later, to find herself still wrapped up in Fleur Delacour. She closed her eyes and smiled to herself, remembering everything that had happened. She, Hermione Granger, had helped stop The Dark Lord and got to bed her beloved as a prize. 

That’s what Fleur had called her when she attacked Bellatrix, her beloved. It was too late to deny it any longer. She opened her eyes and scooted around to look at Fleur’s face. The movement seemed to wake Fleur as she began to stir herself. 

Hermione met Fleur’s groggy eyes and as Fleur blinked away the blurriness of waking up, they both couldn’t help but smile at each other. Fleur buried her face in Hermione’s neck, her voice muffled against her skin. “Ah, mon coeur. I ‘ave missed you so much.”

Hermione’s smile widened as she felt Fleur’s lips kissing up her neck. Then a soft gasp as she gently nipped her earlobe. “Fleur…” Fleur brought her head back up and Hermione pulled her back down for a deep kiss. 

They spent a few minutes like that before pulling away from each other and laying back. This time, Hermione started to play with Fleur’s hair, twirling the fine silver hair between her fingers. “How much longer do you think we have?” 

Fleur groaned softly and nestled against Hermione. “Probably not much longer… What are we going to do, ‘Ermione? Do I leave Bill? Do we actually try zis? Do we dare risk it? What do ze next few years even look like?” 

Hermione lay there quietly, her fingers continuing to twirl through Fleur’s hair. Truth be told, she had not really taken the time to think about what happens after The Dark Lord. “I want to go back to school, and finish. I need to… and I’m not sure we can be together while I did that. I need to try to just live a normal witch life for a little while. I’ve never really had a chance to do that…”

Fleur nodded, and Hermione heard her swallow before continuing. “Zat is more zan fair for what you have done for us all. I zink zat I too need to take some time to figure out what I truly want. Whether zat be with Bill or without. I do know zat I will not be returning to Gringotts anytime soon…”

They both shared a soft laugh before settling into a comfortable silence. After a few minutes passed, Fleur looked up at Hermione. “So zis will be the end for now?” Hermione nodded. A wicked grin crossed Fleur’s face as she pulled the blanket down to uncover Hermione’s bare skin. “Zen we better make ze best of it…”

  
  
  
  
  



	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione starts a job post war and finds a surprise waiting for her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Short authors note today as I am uploading from my phone. Hope you all continue to enjoy and please inspire me to continue writing with your awesome reviews!

**The Atrium, The Ministry of Magic, June, 2000**

Hermione carefully stepped out of the gilded fireplace into the vast Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. She coughed quite a bit, still not too used to travelling by the Floo Network. That would change, no doubt, with her new position within the Ministry itself. Just about every employee traveled to work by Floo, even if they lived in the city like Hermione did.

It took about a year after completing her N.E.W.T.S. to score this job, but she was happy to take that time to spend some time at Hogwarts, and with her parents, trying to get back into what someone could consider a normal routine. 

The past two years had been relatively tame compared to the decade beforehand. Hermione spent the summer after the fall of Voldemort finding her parents in Australia and restoring their memory. It took some high level magic to do so, but Hermione was more than up for the challenge. After moving them all back to England, she returned to Hogwarts in the fall to finish her studies. She helped with the Hogwarts castle restoration efforts alongside taking her final classes and finishing her N.E.W.T.S.

Once she finished her exams, she remained at Hogwarts for several months, helping them to rebuild after all the damage from the war. It was tedious work, but she felt it was important. After spending the summer there, she decided it was time to return home to her parents for the holidays before searching for a job after the New Year. 

It did not take long for her to find a job. Plenty of places were willing to hire the famous Hermione Granger without even speaking with her first, but Hermione was determined to find a position where she could actually help someone. Improve the world in some way. 

Thinking back to her desire to help house elves, and really any and all magical creatures that were seen as lesser, Hermione started looking within the Ministry of Magic. With the connections she had, she easily scored a job in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures within the Beast division. 

And this was her first day. She was still vaguely familiar with the Ministry of Magic from her few visits, so it was not too intimidating for her to make her way through the Atrium, and head to the security checkpoint. 

Passing the gates she gave a nod to the guard and approached the lifts. That’s when her anxiety started to kick in. Now she would be broaching unfamiliar territory and be expected to perform at a certain level. 

Normally, Hermione thrived in these kinds of environments, but it was always hard to shake the first day jitters. She swallowed and stepped into the lift, trying to calm herself down as she was taken to the fourth level. 

The doors opened and she stepped out, unsure of what exactly to expect. Immediately, she was greeted enthusiastically by an older woman, with gray hair and glasses. Her sharp voice commanded attention as she spoke. “Hermione Granger. Our newest member of the Beast Division. Follow me!”

Hermione did not hesitate to follow the woman, trying to keep up with her brisk walk. The woman continued to speak as they walked through the Department. “I am Gethsemane Prickle, I am the Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.”

Hermione tried to work in a “Nice to meet you” but was silenced as the woman continued to speak. “You are one of our interns. You will be reporting to our senior investigators, debriefing them as they return from their cases, and inputting the data into our records.”

They entered a busy area clearly labeled Being Division and everybody stopped what they were doing to turn and look up at them. Gethsemane spoke softly to Hermione. “If you do your job well, you will be given more tasks until you are allowed to pursue cases and causes on your own.” The volume of her voice increased as she addressed the whole area. 

“Listen up! This is Hermione Granger. She is most likely familiar to all of you. That does not mean she gets any special treatment, positive or negative. You will treat her as you would any other intern, and she will prove her worth just like the others.” 

Hermione could not help but start blushing at this unwanted attention. “That is all, continue with your duties. Hermione, your desk is right over there. Feel free to spend the next hour or so getting comfortable and familiarizing yourself with the Department layout, and then I will start sending work your way.”

With that, Gethsemane Prickle turned and walked back off, deeper into the rest of the Department. There was a quiet muttering as people turned to get back to the work they had been interrupted from. Still blushing, Hermione made her way towards the back of the area, where her new desk was. As she was walking, she heard a familiar voice…

“‘Ermione?” Hermione froze up and slowly turned, seeing the silver white hair of none other than Fleur Delacour, ‘No’ she told herself, ‘Fleur Weasley’. The French witch began to stand from behind her desk, situated no more than ten feet from Hermione’s own. If Hermione was blushing before, she was absolutely beet red now. 

**The Beast Division, DftRaCoMC, June, 2000**

Fleur was stunned as she saw her head of Department escorting Hermione in. Her shock was multiplied when she heard Hermione was to start working with them. Fleur had only been working at the Department for about a year. After the war, she and Bill spent a month in France with her family.

Reconnecting with her Veela relatives, Fleur was inspired to join the Department for the Regulation and Containment of Magical Creature, to try to improve relations not only between the Ministry and the Veela, but all Magical Beings that were similarly discriminated against. 

Starting as an intern herself, her particular skill set and talents quickly pushed her up to more of a public relations position, working as an ambassador between the Department and various magical communities. Since the rise and fall of Voldemort, tensions were at an all time high between wizards and the other communities which kept Fleur relatively busy. 

Luckily, that’s the kind of environment Fleur thrived in. Until Hermione showed up, throwing her through a total loop. Suddenly the cool and confident witch was a blushing, insecure mess. No one else in her life ever had that effect on her, not even her husband. 

Fleur and Bill had settled back into a routine, though it was easy to do so when Bill’s routine involved him spending the vast majority of his time breaking curses in Egypt. It was not difficult for him to get his job back, and although Fleur detested the thought of returning to Gringotts, Bill was ecstatic at the chance to continue his work. 

That suited Fleur just fine. She had turned their humble one bedroom apartment into her own home, finally able to decorate their living quarters how she truly wanted. A plush, comfortable bed. Colorful paintings and wall hangings all over. And a luxurious bathroom that seemed almost out of place in a one bedroom apartment. It was her home. 

But now she was at work, and so was Hermione. And she was completely unavoidable. Fleur followed Hermione to her desk, as Hermione finally responded to her. “Fleur. I did not know you were working here.” 

Fleur watched Hermione sling her bag onto her desk and noted with a hint of pleasure just how flushed the younger witch was. It was satisfying to know that she still had the same effect on Hermione that Hermione had on her. “Is that going to be a problem, ‘Ermione?”

Fleur’s accent had started to fade, but the way she said Hermione’s name would likely always stay the same. Hermione looked up at her and gave her a reassuring smile. Fleur could not help but notice Hermione glancing down at her ring finger briefly, where her wedding band was. “Of course that’s not a problem, Fleur. I actually look forward to the chance to really work on our friendship.” 

There was a slight sadness in Hermione’s voice as she said the word friendship which was impossible for Fleur to miss. This was certainly going to make work very interesting for her. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Fleur settle into a work routine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this chapter quickly so another short author note! Please review and hope you enjoy!

**The Beast Division, Beginning of July, 2000**

After a couple weeks at her new job, Hermione finally got into a routine. She would wake up in her studio apartment every morning, climb out of her lumpy bed, and start her coffee maker. Then, she would feed Crookshanks, and jump in the shower. By the time her shower finished, the coffee was ready. She would down her first cup while she got dressed, and would pour a second for the road. 

Hermione hated the Floo Network. After trying to use it for a week, she quickly abandoned it to just use the visitor’s entrance. Hermione loved being a witch, but sometimes she felt a strange comfort in leaning towards more Muggle tendencies. 

Every morning when she got out of the shower, she would look down at her bare arm and see the scars spelling Mudblood. She did her best to feel pride in the wicked term. She was proud to come from a non-magical background and get to the place she was today. Still, every so often she would look at the scars and flash back to the time she received them…

But work was going well for her. She truly believed what her Department Head said. That if she worked hard and showed dedication, she would soon be able to start affecting the changes she truly wanted to, and begin her long journey to improve the wizarding world as a whole. 

In addition to her dedication to her work, Hermione found herself truly enjoying working near Fleur. She was actually the highlight of most of Hermione’s days. As long as they were in the Department together, they were forced to remain appropriate, never able to allow themselves to indulge in the promiscuous acts that would constantly run through their minds in close proximity. 

This allowed them to reconnect on the same deep level they had originally started to at Hogwarts. Fleur filled Hermione in on the past two years of her life, mainly talking about her parents and the first year of work at the department, noticeably avoiding any talk involving Bill. 

Hermione told Fleur about her last year at Hogwarts, trying not to brag about her success at her N.E.W.T.S, and how the restoration was going at the castle. She also told Fleur about her parents, and the difficulties of trying to balance her Muggle life and her Magic life. 

Fleur was a sympathetic ear, comforting her when she was down and supporting her when she needed it. It was something Hermione desperately needed. She felt incredibly lonely since she had returned to Hogwarts. Choosing her studies over following her friends into their careers meant she essentially isolated herself. 

But work fixed that problem in no time. When she wasn’t spending time with Fleur, she was chatting up her other coworkers. Almost everyone had heard of her, and the few who didn’t soon learned. Nobody gave her any special treatment, probably due to fear of retaliation from Gethsemane Prickle. Everyone in the entire Department respected her too much to even think of it. 

Despite her popularity, Hermione still found herself spending the majority of her time with Fleur. They ate lunch together every day, and whenever Hermione had a question, Fleur was the one she went to ask. Every morning, whoever arrived first would sit on the desk of the other, waiting to start their morning together. 

It was a routine for them. A safe one. One that couldn’t possibly lead to anything more than friendship. There were too many eyes on them. And Fleur still had a ring on her finger. Besides, Hermione was too busy trying to improve her work to even think about any kind of romance. 

Then, one day, about a month and a half after she started, her entire Division decided that they needed a night out. The investigators all happened to be in town at the same time, too rare of an occurrence to go without some sort of celebration. 

It was decided that those who were interested would be going to a local Muggle pub to try this thing they called Karaoke. Hermione bit back a smile at the novel idea of all these wizards and witches getting trashed and singing. She looked up and locked eyes with Fleur, seeing a similar smile play across her face as they shared an amused look. Tonight was certainly going to be a night to remember. 

**The Brazen Monkey, Mid July, 2000**

Fleur briskly walked up the street towards the Karaoke bar that her coworkers had decided on crashing tonight. It had been quite some time since she went out and enjoyed herself. She was looking forward to it, especially since she knew that Hermione was going to be there. 

Working with Hermione had been just the spark that Fleur needed to reignite the passion she had felt leeching away from her. Fleur was never really close to her other coworkers. Like everyone else she encountered, they seemed put off by her uncanny charisma once the initial glow of the thrall wore off. But Hermione helped bridge that gap, humanizing Fleur to the others through their own friendship. 

Friendship. That’s what she had with Hermione. It was interesting to say the least. Her heart still fluttered whenever she caught Hermione’s eye, and when they were close to each other, all of Fleur’s senses flooded with a desire she fought to hold back. But they were friends, and that was too good for Fleur to risk. Besides, there was still Bill… 

She hadn’t seen him for months but the wedding ring on her finger served as a constant reminder. Initially, she supported Bill returning to his former duties. Fleur was determined to play the good wife, always supportive and always loyal, but his absence had taken a heavy toll on her mental health. 

Then Hermione showed up, and everything got that much easier for her. ‘I am very lucky’ Fleur thought to herself as she pulled open the door of the pub.

It was easy to spot her coworkers, they were the only group that looked like they got dressed in the dark. Fleur had opted to go with a simple blue cocktail dress that hugged her curves. The only one who looked decent in the group besides her was Hermione, clearly having the Muggle experience to pull off the tight jeans and black tank top she wore. 

Drinks were soon ordered, as well as shots of tequila for the whole table. Soon the Karaoke started and the various witches and wizards struggled to drunkenly sing Muggle songs they had never heard before. 

Fleur took her own turn, singing the classic French tune La Vie En Rose and enrapturing the entire pub for the duration of the song, including Hermione. Fleur knew it was a good song, one of the few Muggle songs she had learned as a child. And, against her better judgement, she allowed just a little of her thrall to enhance her performance. 

After a few more songs, some sung by wizards, some by Muggles, it was Hermione’s turn next. She sang a song called Happy Together by The Turtles. Fleur had never heard it before but she was completely smitten with Hermione’s performance. 

The night went on and the drinks kept flowing until eventually the group started to disperse. It was getting late, and while most of them did not work in the morning, the barkeep was eager to see the strange crowd get going. 

As Hermione and Fleur walked outside into the brisk air, saying goodbye to their coworkers, Hermione let out a sporadic giggle. Fleur was unsure that she’d ever seen Hermione this inebriated, even more so than that night at Shell Cottage. 

This was a different Hermione. A much less burdened one. One with a more open smile and a louder laugh and a brighter look in her eyes. One that Fleur was having a hard time not kissing right now. 

Shaking the thoughts from her head, she grabbed Hermione’s hand and led her through the streets. “Come on, ‘Ermione. You are in no shape to try to make your way home.” Hermione followed Fleur giddily, letting her fingers slide to entwine easily with Fleur’s. 

It felt like the most natural thing in the world as they walked together. After a moment, Hermione seemed to realize Fleur was in fact leading her somewhere. “Where are you taking me, Fleur? Are you taking me back to your place?”

Fleur gave her a small smile and nodded. “Oui, mon amie. I have the most comfortable couch in the city with your name on it.” Hermione laughed and pulled Fleur a little closer. “Why Mademoiselle Delacour, are you trying to seduce me?” 

Fleur was rather shocked at this statement. Surely this was just the alcohol talking. They had been doing so good at the friendship thing and it was too dangerous to jeopardize now. “Of course not, and you know it’s Madame Weasley now…”

Hermione gave Fleur a pout and was quiet for the rest of the walk back to Fleur’s. Once they made it to her apartment, Fleur set about getting pajamas for Hermione and soon the drunk witch was snuggled up on a massive couch, with a soft blanket wrapped around her body. 

Fleur left a glass of water on the table next to her, gave her a soft kiss on the cheek, and began her own nighttime routine. It was an odd feeling, having Hermione sleeping under the same roof as her, but it was a comforting one. Fleur didn’t know it til that night, but she truly had yearned for someone to share her home with. 

**Fleur’s Apartment, End of July, 2000**

Hermione wasn’t sure how it happened. Well, she knew it had happened with her getting too drunk one night, and needing a place to stay. But when she had come back the next night, and the night after that, Fleur had not questioned it. 

Hermione did not stay at Fleur’s every night, she still had Crookshanks to worry about, but she found herself there more often than not. It seemed that both women found themselves incredibly lonely when they were home alone. This arrangement was a solution to that problem, as long as they could keep things platonic. 

And they did. Against all odds, they behaved themselves. Of course, they let their minds run wild but they did not allow themselves to indulge with their actions. Which was impressive, considering that after the first week of Hermione sleeping on the couch, she migrated to the bedroom. 

There she would sleep, fully clothed, next to another fully clothed Fleur. And they would fall asleep on separate sides of the bed, not daring to touch each other. However, somehow, during the night, they would find each other and every morning they woke up tangled up in each other. After which, they would untangle themselves without a word and begin getting ready for their day. 

Some nights Fleur would find Hermione, some nights Hermione would find Fleur. Regardless, without a doubt, they slept together the way that lovers would. And that was exactly how Bill found them when he returned early one morning...

  
  
  



	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The results of Fleur's talk with Bill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks! So sorry about the later update than normal, but you know with the holiday weekend everything just gets crazy. I tried to make the chapter a little longer to make up for it! I hope those who celebrate had a great Thanksgiving. So, at this point, with the conclusion of Bill and Fleur, most of the HEAVY drama and angst is over and done with. I'll probably have one more conflict arise in the story itself, but for the most part I want the rest to be romantic fluff! So if that's not something you're into, I apologize, but I think that the first half of the story had enough angst to last Fleur and Hermione a lifetime!
> 
> Anyway, hope you continue to enjoy the story, and please continue leaving reviews and comments! I do read them, I do take them into account, but I do also have an outline for where this story is going to go already!

**Bill and Fleur’s apartment, 1st of August, 2000**

“What the fresh hell is this?” Bill’s booming voice woke both Fleur and Hermione out of a deep sleep. Fleur pulled herself from Hermione’s arms as she sat up. Blinking away grogginess, she looked over at her husband, standing in the doorway of their bedroom. “Fleur, what the fuck...Hermione??” 

Hermione was already climbing out of the bed. Fleur was grateful they were both clothed, but the damage had already been done. Hermione started gathering her things from the bedroom. Fleur stood slowly and started to help Hermione under Bill’s angry gaze. 

Not a word was spoken between them until Hermione left. As she was leaving, she shot Fleur a regretful look, matched with a comforting smile. Hermione muttered a “Nice to see you, Bill” that made him bristle before leaving the bedroom, shutting the door behind her, and leaving Bill and Fleur behind…

**The Being Division, 1st of August, 2000**

As Hermione had shut the bedroom door that morning, she heard Bill’s voice clear as he began speaking to Fleur. He was angry. He mentioned coming home early to spend their anniversary together. Hermione felt the guilt creeping up through her. 

They had been so careful around each other. Careful to never cross any lines, push any boundaries, careful not to allow themselves to indulge fully in whatever wild fantasies they spent their work days thinking up. And when they slept together, they stayed fully clothed and never crossed the line. 

Hermione wasn’t sure why she had started staying at Fleur’s, but after that first night it just felt comfortable. Her place was lonely, even with Crookshanks, and it was just nice to have a close female friend that just to her own. Ginny was great, but with her connection to Harry and Ron, Hermione felt like she was constantly in their shadow around her.

Fleur was all her own. Ever since she first arrived at Hogwarts for the tournament. Hermione had glanced back at the bedroom door as she left the apartment that morning. That wasn’t quite true. Fleur wasn’t hers at all…

Fleur was late that day, and Hermione found it nearly impossible to concentrate on the pile of notes she had to file away in their records. Most of the files were entirely mundane. That was the thing about working in the Being division, Beings were usually the most reasonable creatures to deal with. 

It wasn’t until after lunch that Fleur showed up to work. Hermione returned from her lunch break to find the French witch sitting at her desk, fiddling with some papers. Hesitating a moment, she looked Fleur over. Fleur looked tired, but not particularly upset. She wasn’t wearing as much makeup as she usually did, but she looked just as stunning as always. 

Hermione stood for a moment longer before she saw Fleur’s eyes dart up to meet hers. Realizing that she was just standing there and staring, she started to make her way over to Fleur’s desk. Fleur’s face grew a slow smile as Hermione approached, her eyes already lighting up to combat her tired look. 

“‘Ermione, I am so very sorry for what happened this morning. I had no idea Bill would be back then, nor that he would get the wrong impression of us spending time together.” Hermione frowned a bit at this, but tried to hide her disappointment. She and Fleur had kept it strictly platonic, but she didn’t realize the kind of impression she wanted to give Bill til that moment.

Fleur must’ve seen Hermione’s downcast look because she quickly grabbed Hermione’s hands and stood up to face her properly. “But it’s okay! Me and Bill spent some time talking this morning. For quite some time. I did not realize how badly we needed to talk until we started.” Fleur looked around the office, and Hermione followed suit, noticing that they were starting to catch the eye of their coworkers. 

Hermione cleared her throat and slowly, reluctantly, pulled her hands out of Fleur’s warm and comforting grasp. “Maybe we should wait, Fleur. Speak after work? We could grab a drink…” Fleur nodded and leaned in to give Hermione a light kiss on each cheek, causing them to immediately flush. “After work then, ‘Ermione”

**The Brazen Monkey, 1st of August, 2000**

Fleur had found it near impossible to get through work that day, especially considering she had to catch up from missing the morning. From the glances she kept sharing with Hermione all afternoon, she could tell Hermione was having the same issue. This talk could be one of the most important ones Fleur had ever had, if she handled it well. Just as important as the talk she and Bill had that morning.

Truth be told, Bill could always tell that Fleur was never completely devoted to him the way he was to her. That was probably why he leapt at taking his old job back, travelling the world without her. And Fleur didn’t try to stop him. It was something they both kind of knew, but never really spoke about until that morning. They had been pushed together by the war and now that the war was over, they had nothing left for each other.

Bill had been amazing about it, to his credit, once he calmed down. Fleur explained the situation with Hermione in full, starting way back during the tournament. Bill listened, watching his wife carefully as she shared with him something she had never told anyone else. It was clear how much Fleur cared for Hermione, and once it was pointed out to him it was clear to Bill how much Hermione cared for Fleur. He would’ve been an idiot to try to argue otherwise.

So he didn’t. He gave Fleur a huge hug, packed the few belongings he still had at the house, and left. He planned to visit with his family for some time, Fleur could only assume they would be ecstatic at the news, but not at her. Then, after that it was back to work and back on the road. 

Now, Fleur was free. Finally free. Not swept up in some silly tournament, or wizarding war, or lonely marriage. She was unattached, available, and she finally felt free. And she could not wait to share this feeling with Hermione. Which is why she couldn’t help but half jog to the bar where she had agreed to meet Hermione. 

As she walked in, her eyes scoured the area for the witch. She saw Hermione tucked in a back corner, with a drink for each of them already ready. Fleur smiled warmly and made her way over to the small table. She had to stay at work a bit later than expected to catch up, but she was here now. 

Sitting down, she took the drink Hermione offered her and took a long swig of it before putting the glass down and looking at Hermione. Hermione stared back at her, her brown eyes quizzical but warm. “So, Fleur...what happened this morning?”

“It’s over.” Fleur could not help but grin as she heard the words. “Me and Bill, we are through. We should have never gotten married. I think both of us knew that, but did not want to admit it to the other.” Fleur took her drink again and broke Hermione’s gaze to look down at it. “But now, we will file for divorce, which should not take long, and we will both return to work and live our lives separately.” She looked back up at Hermione, her eyes shining with a near glee. “It’s over.”

Hermione smiled back at Fleur, quick to offer her support. “Well that’s wonderful news, Fleur. I am so happy to hear that you finally have a chance to be happy now. It seemed like there was this filter over you when you were with Bill. Not that there was anything he did wrong, just that you weren’t quite all I knew you could be.” Now it was Hermione’s turn to look down at her drink as she spoke. “So you’re free now...and I...what exactly does this mean for us, Fleur?” Hermione dared to meet Fleur’s eyes once more, with the same quizzical and warm look she had before, but now with a more personal investment.

Fleur reached across the table to grab Hermione’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “It means, ‘Ermione, that I would absolutely love to take you out on a proper date. If that is something you might be interested in…” Hermione stared at Fleur and suddenly Fleur had flashes of them back in school, their secret rendezvous, always scared of being caught, no more ignoring their feelings for each other, no more hiding. All of that was no more, as soon as Hermione nodded.

**5th of August, 2000**

It was finally time for Fleur and Hermione’s first date, and Hermione was buzzing from excitement. She had been excited nearly all week, ever since Fleur had asked her out. She could tell Fleur was just as excited by the way she would not stop smiling at Hermione all throughout their work day.

Hermione couldn’t blame her, she could only assume she had the same stupid grin planted on her face. It didn’t help that Fleur refused to tell her what their date was going to consist of. “Dress comfortably.” was all she had been told, and Fleur had given no other hints throughout the week.

Now they were trampling along in some field after portkeying out of London, and Hermione was thanking the gods she had decided to go with comfortable shoes as well. They were both dressed simply, with jeans that hugged their bodies in different but flattering ways. Fleur wore a well fitted racerback tank top that was a light enough blue to make her eyes sparkle just the right way. Hermione had gone with a v neck black t shirt. The shirt itself was simple, but she knew the bra she paired with it would elicit a wonderful reaction from Fleur. And it had.

But now, they were trampling in a field, and Hermione felt entirely lost. “Is there where you’ve taken me to kill me, Fleur? Because I didn’t survive Hogwarts under Dumbledore, the resurrection of a Dark Lord, and an entire wizarding war to get shanked in a field by a pretty girl…” Fleur laughed, and the musical sound instantly comforted Hermione. “Do not worry, we are almost there.”

Suddenly, Hermione started hearing voices and started looking around. She noticed various people, clearly wizards, coming in from different sections of the field and congregating at one end. The end they were walking towards. As the wizards reached the end, they disappeared. Hermione was baffled until she and Fleur reached the end themselves. She gave Fleur a questioning look, and Fleur just took her hand, pulling Hermione after her.

All at once, the dark field turned into a brightly lit area, and a roaring crowd could be heard instantly, nearly deafening them. Before them stood a gigantic stadium, almost as big as the one Hermione had gone to for the World Cup. She looked at Fleur and furrowed her brow. “You took me to a quidditch match?”

Fleur gestured for Hermione to look around more, and suddenly Hermione saw the teams colors and banners. She broke into a knowing grin and began nodding. “You took me to a Bulgarian match...We’re going to see Krum!” 

Fleur grabbed Hermione’s hand again and started bringing her to the stadium, towards what was clearly a VIP entrance. “Of course I would never take you to any old Quidditch match, ‘Ermione. But I thought this might be a bit more fun. You can experience the Veela again, and we can both see a good friend.”

Hermione could not stop grinning as they made their way up to a nicely decorated and furnished box area. Clearly, being personal friends with the famous Seeker had it’s benefits. Benefits they would happily take advantage of. They took their seats and soon the match was under way.

The Veela were enthralling, as usual, but Hermione had found a new appreciation for them due to her relationship were Fleur. It certainly helped that Fleur was sitting right next to her, explaining the lure and magic of the Veela as they performed. It was then that Hermione took Fleur’s hand, holding it casually in public for the first time.

It was always incredible seeing Viktor fly. Hermione had almost zero interest in Quidditch. Lord knows she had heard enough from Harry and Ron and even Ginny to last her a lifetime. But it was always a spectacle to see someone with a talent like Viktor to be in his element. Bulgaria was not doing to great, but Krum was flying his best. It was after the first half that Hermione could see him beginning to get discouraged. 

She started yelling along with the crowd, trying to boost him up. They still had a chance of winning if he caught the snitch soon, but her yells were completely lost in the chaos. Fleur noticed this and stood up next to her date. She placed a hand on Hermione’s stomach and told her to inhale deeply before trying again. Hermione felt a surge of energy coursing through her, radiating from Fleur’s hand, and she opened her mouth once more, shouting the first thing she could think of, “YOU’RE A WANKER, VIKTOR KRUM!” 

Her voice echoed throughout the stadium, and just about everyone turned to look towards their box. Fleur dissolved into a fit of giggles, and Hermione flushed as scarlet as the Bulgarians’ robes as Viktor himself turned to look at them. Seeing the two familiar faces, he gave a big grin towards them and a wave, before shooting back off on his broomstick.

It did not take him long to catch the snitch after that, and the game was over with a Bulgarian win. As Fleur and Hermione made their way down to the locker room areas to meet with Krum, Hermione looked over at Fleur and squinted her eyes. “How did you do that with just your hand? Have you been practicing wandless magic?” Fleur’s eyes glimmered with mischief before she reached into her pocket, revealing she had been holding her wand with the other hand. Hermione just shook her head and laughed.

They met with Krum, and after an appropriate amount of hugging, he managed to convince them to join the team for the post game celebrations. After a long and rowdy party that lasted well into the night, Hermione and Fleur grabbed their small portkey one last time and were swept away back to London. 

Hermione walked with Fleur back to her apartment, just tipsy enough to wonder if the ethereal glow Fleur had was her Veela nature, the alcohol in her system, or just the foggy London streetlights. When they reached Fleur’s door, Fleur hesitated. “”Ermione, I don’t want you to feel like you are obligat-” Hermione lunged forward and kissed Fleur hungrily, letting years of held back passion and desire flow through both of them. That was all Fleur needed from Hermione.

They fell into Fleur’s apartment and were quick to strip off each others’ clothes as they made their way to the bedroom. Control switched between both girls, neither one willing to succumb completely until they fell into the bed together. There, they let themselves go completely, determined to take as much of the other as they could until they were an exhausted and sweaty heap in the bed. After their lovemaking, Hermione curled up in Fleur’s arms and quickly fell asleep as Fleur buried her face in Hermione’s hair to do the same...

  
  



End file.
